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A  Woman's  Story 
of  Pioneer  Illinois 


tCtje  llabrsioe  Claseite 

A  Woman's  Story 
o/^  Pioneer  Illin^'s 

By  Christiana  Holmes  I ;... 


MOa-IJIT     e3MJOM     AHAlTaiPIHO 
EDITED   BY 

3MT    va    a  3  d  w  o    aniTn.A«»    jio    kia    m  o  f»  ^ 

Superintendent  of 
'^■■::  State  Hist^kal  Society  ej  n  ;  u  i  ^un 


With  Tivo  Portraits 


€l>e  %A\t4\\it  Tf^xmy  Chicago 
R.  R.  DONNELLEY  &  SONS  COMPANY 

"•^RISTMAS,  MCMXIX 


CHRISTIANA     HOLMES     TILLSON 

^ROM      AN      Oil.     PAINTING      OWNED     BY     THE 
Q  U  I  rv  C  V      MISTO  Bi  C  A  U  .  SOCIETY 


tB\)t  iLabestDe  Classics 

A  Woman's  Story 
(?/"  Pioneer  Illinois 

By  Christiana  Holmes  Tillson 


EDITED  BY 


MILO  MILTON  QUAIFE 

Superintendent  of 
The  State  Historical  Society  of  TVisconsin 


With  Tivo  Portraits 


(The  Lakeside 

]  Press  Chicago 


R.  R.  DONNELLEY  &  SONS  COMPANY 
CHRISTMAS,  MCMXIX 


F 

5-4S* 


A  S  the  subject  matter  of  these  annual  vol- 
/\  umes  has  drifted  into  the  Hne  of  the 
■^  ^  history  of  early  Chicago  and  the  con- 
tiguous territory,  so  has  the  publishers'  pref- 
ace unconsciously  taken  on  the  form  of  an 
annual  report  of  its  apprenticeship  school 
to  the  friends  and  patrons  of  The  Lakeside 
Press. 

Last  year  we  wrote  of  the  war  record  of  the 
boys  and  young  men,  and  of  our  anticipation 
of  their  return  to  the  case,  the  press,  or  the 
desk.  It  then  seemed  to  all  of  us  that,  the  war 
being  over,  we  would  drop  back  quickly  into 
our  accustomed  ways  of  daily  living.  But  we 
had  forgotten  our  history,  which  tells  us  that 
the  recovery  from  the  destruction  and  license 
of  war  to  the  ways  of  orderly  and  ample  pro- 
duction leads  through  a  period  of  mounting 
prices  and  difficult  readjustment. 

The  War  of  Nations  has  been  followed  by 
industrial  strife  —  a  state  no  less  nerve  racking 
to  those  responsible  for  carrying  on  the  nation's 
business  than  actual  warfare  was  to  those  in 
high  places  of  national  responsibihty. 


890557 


^uBIi^fjer^^  preface 


Fortunately,  during  this  traublous  year  The 
Lakeside  Press  has  had  no  strikes  or  even 
threats  of  strikes.  Perhaps  the  most  obvious 
reasons  for  this  condition  are:  the  belief  of 
the  management  in  the  efficacy  of  the  square 
deal;  their  determination  that  no  outside  inter- 
ference shall  come  between  the  personal  rela- 
tionship of  management  and  workman;  and  the 
loyalty  of  the  graduate  apprentices. 

The  value  of  giving  thought  and  pains  to 
the  careful  selection  and  proper  training  of  ap- 
prentices has  again  unexpectedly  been  proved. 
Not  only  are  the  graduates  men  of  unusual 
skill,  but  they  have  shown  a  loyalty  to  The  Press 
and  its  ideals  that  cannot  be  measured  in  sums 
of  money. 

Of  the  fifty-two  apprentices  and  graduates 
that  served  in  the  war,  two  were  killed  in  action 
and  forty-seven  have  returned  to  The  Press  as 
"home."  Whatever  the  future  may  have  in 
store  in  the  way  of  industrial  disturbance — 
and  who  in  these  days  would  dare  to  prophesy 
— we  feel  confident  that  "our  boys"  will  always 
be  loyal  and  a  tower  of  strength. 

"The  Memoirs  of  Christiana  Holmes  Till- 
son"  gives  us  another  book  of  the  hfe  of  the 
pioneers  of  Illinois.  Written  by  Mrs.  Tillson 
in  her  late  years,  to  be  circulated  only  among 
her  family  and  close  friends,  it  has  an  intimate 
family  touch  that  wins  our  hearts  for  her 
charming  womanliness,  and  admiration  for  her 
cheerful  pluck. 


^u6Ii^t)er^'  preface 


We  are  again  indebted  to  Mr.  Milo  M.  Quaife 
for  bringing  this  rare  book  to  our  attention  and 
for  his  scholarly  care  in  editing  it. 

That  this  little  book  may  bring  a  quiet 
hour  of  forgetfulness  in  these  troublous  times 
is  the  earnest  hope  of 

THE  PUBLISHERS. 


Historical  Introduction 


f  isjtorical  9Intt;oDuctfon 


IN  The  Lakeside  Classics  for  1918  were  pre- 
sented several  pictures,  by  contemporary 
observers,  of  society  and  conditions  in 
Illinois  a  century  ago.  In  the  present  volume 
we  return  to  the  same  field,  and  in  the  narra- 
tive of  Mrs.  Christiana  Holmes  Tillson  afford 
to  twentieth-century  readers  a  graphic  charac- 
terization of  the  life  of  the  founders  of  Illinois 
as  it  was  lived  and  later  recorded  by  an  acute 
observer  of  New  England  lineage  and  rearing. 
Between  the  Illinois  described  by  Mrs. 
Tillson  and  the  present  highly  industrialized 
commonwealth  of  over  six  million  people  lies 
a  great  gulf.  Probably  there  would  be  no 
exaggeration  in  saying  that  in  all  the  material 
aspects  of  life  the  dweller  in  rural  Illinois  in 
1820  (and  all  Illinois  was  then  rural)  if  trans- 
planted to  the  Illinois  of  today  would  find  fewer 
familiar  objects  and  more  occasion  for  aston- 
ishment than  would  the  rural  contemporary 
of  Augustus  Caesar  if  similarly  transplanted 
to  the  Illinois  of  1820.  Only  by  a  conscious 
effort  of  the  imagination,  therefore,  supple- 
mented by  the  aid  of  some  definite  informa- 
tion, can  the  present-day  reader  visualize  the 
conditions  which  supply  the  setting  for  Mrs. 
Tillson's  story.     An  excellent  picture  of  them 


l^i^torical  S^nttotiuctiott 

can  be  found  in  the  opening  chapter  of  the 
second  volume  of  the  Cente?inial  History  of 
Illinois.'^  The  area  of  settlement  a  century  ago 
is  sketched  in  the  following  words: 

* '  On  the  day  when  Illinois  was  both  territory 
and  state  its  population  of  some  35,000  lay  in 
two  columns  on  opposite  sides  of  the  state, 
resting  on  the  connection  with  the  outside 
world  furnished  by  the  Mississippi,  the  Ohio, 
and  the  Wabash  Rivers  respectively.  The 
population  clustered  in  the  rich  river  bottom, 
gift  of  the  Mississippi,  where  Illinois  history 
began,  and  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  United 
States  saline  in  Gallatin  County.  It  tended 
always  to  make  settlements  on  water  courses 
for  the  sake  of  securing  timber,  water,  and 
easy  communication.  Away  from  the  rivers 
lay  an  unpopulated  region  in  the  interior 
of  southern  Illinois,  where  the  traveler  to 
St.  Louis  or  Kaskaskia  who  preferred  to  cut 
across  by  road  from  Vincennes  or  Shawnee- 
town  rather  than  pole  up  the  Mississippi 
could  still  stage  tales  of  robbers,  murders,  and 
hairbreadth  escapes.  On  the  east,  population 
had  crept  north,  clinging  closely  to  the  Wabash, 
as  far  as  the  present  Edgar  County.  On  the 
west,  settlements  had  reached  the  southern 
part  of  Calhoun  County  and  were  pushing  up 
the  creeks  into  Greene  and  Macoupin;  they 
had  also  followed  the  Kaskaskia  and  its  south- 

1  Theodore  C.  Pease,  The  Frontier  State,  1818-1848. 
(Springfield,  1918),  2-3. 


i^i^totical  3^ntrotiuction 

flowing  tributaries,  so  that  settlements  lay 
in  Bond,  Clinton,  and  Washington  Counties. 
Elsewhere  there  was  wilderness. 

*'To  the  north  of  the  area  of  settlement  lay 
another  world  distinct  and  independent  from 
that  to  the  south.  The  Kickapoo  Indians  still 
inhabited  central  Illinois,  and  the  Sauk  and 
Foxes,  chastised  in  the  war  of  l8i2,  but  still 
morose,  occupied  a  little  of  the  territory  north- 
west of  the  Illinois  River — the  Military  Bounty 
Tract  —  though  this  had  for  some  time  been 
surveyed  and  allotted  in  military  bounties  to 
soldiers  of  the  War  of  1812.  The  main 
strength  of  the  Sauk  and  Foxes  in  Illinois, 
however,  lay  in  the  territory  near  the  junction 
of  the  Rock  and  the  Mississippi,  where  Fort 
Armstrong  on  Rock  Island  had  lately  arisen 
to  overawe  them.  In  the  territory  east  of 
them  lay  villages  of  Winnebago  and  Potawa- 
tomi.  Among  them  in  northern  Illinois  and 
on  the  Illinois  and  the  Wabash  Rivers  wandered 
the  fur  traders  of  the  American  Fur  Company; 
these  came  south  down  the  lake  in  their  Macki- 
naw boats  each  fall,  dragged  their  boats  over 
the  Chicago  Portage  to  the  Des  Plaines  River, 
went  into  winter  trading  posts  along  the  Illinois, 
from  which  trading  expeditions  were  sent  out 
during  the  winter,  and  carried  their  harvest  of 
furs  to  Mackinac  in  the  spring.  Besides  Fort 
Armstrong  there  lay  in  this  district  Fort  Ed- 
wards on  the  Mississippi,  Fort  Clark  at  the 
present  site  of  Peoria,  and    Fort   Dearborn; 


i^ii^torical  ^^ntrobuction 

though  as  Indian  dangers  waned  and  Indian 
cessions  were  consummated,  the  forts  were 
successively  abandoned." 

Of  intellectual  and  spiritual  conditions  some 
conception  can  be  gained  from  the  perusal 
of  Mrs.  Tillson's  story.  Whether  on  physical 
or  on  intellectual  and  spiritual  grounds,  one 
finds  in  it  little  support  for  the  ever-popular 
delusion  concerning  a  halcyon  state  of  affairs 
connected  with  the  period  somewhat  vaguely 
designated  " the  good  old  times."  Men  and 
women  of  culture  and  good  breeding  were  by 
no  means  unknown  to  the  Illinois  of  1820,  but 
the  general  level  of  culture  was,  at  least  as  com- 
pared with  present-day  standards,  distressingly 
low.  Mrs.  Tillson's  story  records  the  reactions 
produced  upon  a  refined  New  England  wom- 
an by  an  environment  at  once  predominantly 
southern  and  wholly  frontier.  For  half  a  cen- 
tury Illinois  has  been  regarded  as  a  northern 
state.  But  the  society  known  and  described 
by  Mrs.  Tillson  was  preeminently  southern  in 
origin  and  in  sentiment.  In  1818,  in  a  popula- 
tion of  some  35,000,  four  persons  out  of  every 
six  were  of  southern  stock,  one  was  of  foreign 
origin,  and  one  of  northern  (New  England  or 
Middle  Atlantic)  antecedents.  The  northerner 
was  prone  to  look  with  amused  condescension 
upon  the  slovenly  ways  and  provincial  ignorance 
of  his  southern  neighbor;  while  the  latter  re- 
paid with  interest  this  attitude  of  condescension, 
regarding  the  very  name  of  Yankee,  by  which 


i^i^torical  S^ntroDuction 

the  northern  man  was  known,  as  connoting 
quahties  not  to  be  spoken  of  between  friends. 
Only  by  the  exercise  of  much  patience  and  for- 
bearance was  it  possible  for  the  two  elements 
to  associate  on  terms  of  neighborly  equality. 
From  the  viewpoint  of  Illinois  local  history  the 
peculiar  value  of  Mrs.  Tillson's  story  consists 
in  the  light  the  author  sheds,  sometimes  even 
unconsciously,  on  this  sectional  aspect  of  pio- 
neer Illinois  society. 

Equally  valuable  is  it,  however,  from  another 
point  of  view.  The  most  famous  son  of  Illi- 
nois is  credited  with  a  saying  to  the  effect  that 
God  must  love  the  common  people,  since  he 
has  made  so  many  of  them.  Reasoning  from 
similar  grounds  it  may  be  asserted  that  God 
regards  the  female  sex  at  least  as  highly  as  the 
male.  But  the  reader  of  the  pages  of  recorded 
history  would  never  be  led  to  suspect  this. 
Why,  it  is  not  my  present  purpose  to  inquire; 
rather,  having  called  attention  to  the  fact,  I 
wish  to  show  the  significance  of  Mrs.  Tillson's 
narrative.  Commonly,  history  is  written  by 
men  and  from  the  masculine  point  of  view. 
The  interests,  the  labors,  the  ideals,  and  achieve- 
ments of  the  gentler  half  of  society  are  taken 
for  granted  or  left  to  the  imagination.  The  in- 
adequacy, not  to  say  the  injustice,  of  such  a 
portrayal  of  history  is  self-evident.  With  un- 
erring finger  and  with  pen  more  magic  than 
my  own  the  latest  historian  of  the  cow  country, 
America's   last   frontier,  has  pointed  to  the 


j^i^torical  S^ntrotiuction 

woman  in  the  sunbonnet  as  the  supreme  figure 
in  the  history  of  the  West:  2 

"The  chief  figure  of  the  American  West, 
the  figure  of  the  age,  is  not  the  long-haired, 
fringed-legginged  man  riding  a  raw-boned  pony, 
but  the  gaunt  and  sad-faced  woman  sitting  on 
the  front  seat  of  the  wagon,  following  her  lord 
where  he  might  lead,  her  face  hidden  in  the 
same  ragged  sunbonnet  which  had  crossed  the 
Appalachians  and  the  Missouri  long  before. 
That  was  America,  my  brethren  !  There  was 
the  seed  of  America's  wealth.  There  was  the 
great  romance  of  all  America  —  the  woman  in 
the  sunbonnet;  and  not,  after  all,  the  hero 
with  the  rifle  across  his  saddle  horn.  Who 
has  written  her  story  ?  Who  has  painted  her 
picture?  " 

Regretfully  must  we  reply  to  the  writer's 
rhetorical  questions,  "No  one.  "  Sadly  must 
we  admit  the  probability  that  this  story  will 
never  be  adequately  told.  All  the  more,  then, 
should  we  treasure  the  scattering  fragments 
which  have  come  to  us  out  of  the  souls  of  our 
pioneer  women.  If  we  do  not  know  their 
story,  at  least  it  is  not  Mrs.  Tillson's  fault. 
From  her  pages  we  may  draw  an  impressive 
picture  of  the  omnipresent  burden  of  toil  laid 
upon  the  pioneer  housewife,  and  one  clear 
illustration  of  the  way  this  burden  was  borne. 
In  perusing  it  the  reader  should  bear  in  mind 

2  Emerson  Hough,  T/ie  Passing  of  the  Frontier:  A 
Chronicle  of  the  Old  West.  (New  Haven,  1918),  93-94. 


i^i^torical  S^ntroliuction 

the  fact  that  Mrs.  Tillson's  lot  was  relatively 
favored.  Her  husband  was  a  man  of  education 
and  means,  able  to  provide  for  her  the  best  the 
frontier  community  afforded.  Means  aside,  he 
was  a  man  of  breeding  and  sobriety,  a  leader  in 
the  business  and  religious  life  of  his  community. 
How  much  darker  the  life  of  many  a  pioneer 
woman  might  have  been  is  but  dimly  suggested 
in  such  pictures  as  that  of  Brice  Hanna  and 
the  more  typical  one,  perhaps,  of  Jesse  Buzan. 
The  Tillson  family  was  of  early  New  Eng- 
land lineage.  John  Tillson,  our  author's  hus- 
band, was  a  native  of  Halifax,  Plymouth 
County,  Massachusetts,  where  his  ancestors 
for  several  generations  had  resided.  Aside 
from  his  real  estate  speculations,  in  which  he 
soon  achieved  prosperity,  he  early  became 
prominent  and  influential  in  Illinois,  and 
throughout  his  life  was  active  in  educational 
and  benevolent  enterprises.  He  was  the 
moving  spirit  in  the  founding  of  Hillsboro 
Academy,  and  he  was  also  a  trustee  of  Illinois 
College  from  its  founding  until  his  death.  He 
was  the  first  merchant  and  the  first  postmaster 
of  Hillsboro,  and  the  builder,  as  Mrs.  Tillson 
relates,  of  the  first  brick  house  in  Montgomery 
County.  He  was  actively  interested  in  reli- 
gious affairs  and  was  one  of  two  charter  mem- 
bers of  the  first  Presbyterian  church  at  Hills- 
boro. It  is  illuminating  to  note  that  such  a 
man  was  very  early  driven  by  force  of  circum- 
stances into  becoming   a    slave-holder.    Mr. 


l^i^torical  S^ntroDuction 

Tillson  took  some  part  in  politics  and  was  one 
of  the  state  fund  commissioners  for  building 
the  railroads  of  the  state  in  the  early  thirties. 
The  panic  of  1837  shattered  his  private  fortune 
and  he  left  Montgomery  County.  He  died 
suddenly  of  apoplexy  at  Peoria  in  May,  1853, 
at  the  age  of  fifty-seven. 

Christiana  Holmes  Tillson,  our  author,  was 
born  at  Kingston,  Massachusetts,  March  13, 
1796.  In  October,  1822,  she  married  John 
Tillson  and  immediately  set  out  with  him  for 
Illinois,  whither  he  had  first  gone  to  live  in 
1819.  Her  story  of  the  next  few  years,  told 
in  old  age  for  the  benefit  of  her  youngest 
daughter,  is  the  subject-matter  of  our  volume. 
Mrs.  Tillson  is  characterized  in  Bateman  and 
Selby's  Historical  Eiicyclopaedia  of  Illinois  as 
**a  woman  of  rare  culture  and  refinement  and 
deeply  interested  in  benevolent  enterprises." 
She  died  in  New  York  City,  May  29,  1872. 

Of  the  children  born  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tillson, 
two  should  be  noted  here.  Charles  Holmes 
Tillson  was  born  at  Hillsboro,  September  15, 
1823.  He  graduated  at  Illinois  College  in 
1844,  studied  law,  and  practiced  several  years 
at  St.  Louis.  He  died  in  1865  at  the  early 
age  of  forty-two.  A  touching  tribute  to  his 
memory,  paid  by  his  brother,  states:  "We 
never — running  recollection  back  to  boyhood 
—  saw  him  exhibit  anger;  never  knew  him 
uncivil;  never  beheld  him  otherwise  than 
pleasant,  genial,  considerate.     This   was  his 


I^i^torical  S^nttotiuction 

proverbial  characteristic,  and  the  gentle  dignity 
that  would  not  let  itself  be  ruffled,  parried  all 
harsh  feeling  and  drew  to  him  universal  love. 
He  knew  no  enemies,  and  had  none." 

Another  son,  John  Tillson,  Jr.,  born  at  Hills- 
boro  in  October,  1825,  also  studied  law,  prac- 
ticing at  Quincy  and  for  a  time  at  Galena. 
He  entered  the  Civil  War  in  the  Tenth  Illinois 
Infantry,  rose  to  be  its  colonel,  and  was  mus- 
tered out  in  July,  1 865,  with  the  brevet  of 
a  brigadier  general.  He  later  edited  the 
Quincy  IV/ii'g  for  a  short  time,  served  in  the 
General  Assembly  of  Illinois,  and  was  for 
several  years  collector  of  internal  revenue  for 
the  Quincy  district.     He  died  August  6,  1892. 

Of  the  Tillson  family  group  it  remains  to 
note  only  Robert  Tillson,  brother-in-law  of  our 
author.  He  was  born  at  Halifax,  Massachu- 
setts, in  August,  1800,  and  came  to  Illinois  with 
his  brother  and  sister-in-law  on  their  bridal 
journey  in  the  autumn  of  1822.  His  doings 
at  Hillsboro  until  1827  are  described  in  our 
narrative.  For  a  year  or  so  he  kept  store  in 
St.  Louis,  but  in  1828  removed  his  stock  to 
Quincy  on  a  keel-boat  and  started  the  first 
general  store  ever  established  there.  He 
followed  store  keeping  several  years.  In  ad- 
dition, he  turned  his  attention  to  real  estate, 
and  with  the  growth  of  Quincy  became  wealthy. 
He  died  December  23,  1892,  in  his  ninety-third 
year. 

Mrs.  Tillson  wrote  her  narrative  during  the 


l^i^torical  S^ntrotiuttion 

last  invalid  hours  of  her  life  for  the  instruction 
and  entertainment  of  her  youngest  daughter, 
who  had  been  born  too  late  to  have  personal 
knowledge  of  the  scenes  described  in  it.  After 
her  death  it  was  privately  printed,  apparently  at 
Amherst,  Massachusetts,  by  the  children  for  the 
information  of  members  and  friends  of  the  fam- 
ily. Under  these  circumstances  the  title  origi- 
nally given  the  narrative,  "Reminiscences  of 
Early  Life  in  Illinois  by  Our  Mother,"  was  not 
inappropriate.  In  reissuing  it  after  the  lapse  of 
almost  half  a  century,  because  of  its  value  as 
a  historical  document,  and  for  a  widespread 
circle  of  readers  who  have  no  knowledge  of, 
and  no  personal  interest  in,  the  author,  it  seems 
better  to  call  it  "A  Woman's  Story  of  Pioneer 
Illinois. "  The  original  edition  has  long  since 
become  excessively  rare.  Indeed,  we  know  of 
the  existence  of  but  five  copies,  two  in  the 
Quincy  Historical  Museum,  one  in  the  Chicago 
Historical  Society  Library,  one  in  the  Illinois 
State  Historical  Library  at  Springfield,  and 
the  one  made  use  of  by  the  present  editor  in 
the  library  of  the  State  Historical  Society  of 
Wisconsin  at  Madison.  A  narrative  so  valu- 
able and  interesting  deserves  a  wider  audience 
than  it  has  thus  far  enjoyed,  and  the  fresh 
lease  of  life  which  will  be  afforded  through 
making  it  one  of  the  Lakeside  Classics.  We 
derive  some  satisfaction,  too,  from  the  thought 
that  could  Mrs.  Tillson  see  her  story  in  the 
dignified  and  simple  dress  which  is  now  given 


j^i^torical  ^Fntrotiuction 

it,  the  sight  would  bring  a  thrill  of  pleasure  to 
her  refined  and  artistic  nature. 

In  conclusion  it  may  be  noted  that  the 
present  editor  has  ignored  the  typography  of  the 
original  edition,  and  has  in  certain  instances 
made  minor  textual  emendations  which  the  sense 
of  the  narrative  seemed  clearly  to  call  for. 

MILO  M.  QUAIFE 

Wisco?ishi  Historical  Library 

Madison,  Wisconsin 


A  Woman's  Story 
of  Pioneer  Illinois 


of 


Amherst,  Mass.,  yzine  28,  i8yo. 
My  Dear  Daughter; 

WHENEVER  you  have  expressed  a 
wish  that  I  would  write  out  some  of 
my  early  western  experiences,  I  have 
felt  an  inclination  to  comply  with  your  request, 
but  ill  health  and  other  hindrances  have  pre- 
vented. As  writing  is  not  my  forte,  I  do  not 
feel  that  I  can  produce  anything  which  will  at 
present  interest  you  much;  but  my  own  ap- 
preciation of  every  record  left  me  by  my 
good  mother  and  my  dear  husband  makes  me 
feel  that  I  may  leave  you  something  which 
will  interest  you  in  after  life,  more  than  at 
the  present  time. 

Although  you  have  spent  the  greater  part  of 
your  hfe  at  the  West,  the  accumulation  of 
comforts,  and  the  luxuries  and  improvements 
forty  or  fifty  years  have  brought,  and  which 
are  there  so  liberally  enjoyed,  forbid  the  real- 
ization of  frontier  life  to  those  who  have  not 
by  stern  experience  passed  through  such  an 
ordeal;  and  though  we  have  many  pleasant 
3 


91  ^oman'iBf  «&tDtp 


recollections,  I  think,  as  a  whole,  the  retrospect 
is  preferable  to  the  reality.  Few  would  like 
to  again  pass  through  the  bitterness  for  the 
sake  of  enjoying  the  remembrance  of  the  few 
sweets. 

Your  father's  date  of  western  life  was  three 
and  a  half  years  earlier  than  mine.  He  went 
to  Illinois  in  the  spring  of  1819,  and  I  did  not 
go  until  the  autumn  of  1822.  He,  of  course, 
had  a  sterner  experience  of  backwoods  life 
than  I  had;  he  also  had  a  stronger  develop- 
ment of  hope,  and  a  most  indomitable  energy 
that  carried  him  through  all  the  disagreeables 
that  came  in  his  way.  It  is  rare  to  find  one  so 
amiable  in  every  relation  in  his  intercourse 
with  the  world,  both  socially  and  in  business 
transactions,  who  yet  could  be  so  determined 
and  persevering  in  whatever  he  undertook  to 
do.  His  boyhood  and  early  manhood  were 
spent  with  his  parents  on  the  old  farm  at  Hali- 
fax, attending  the  district  school  winters  and 
working  on  the  farm  in  the  summer.  The  latter 
—  working  on  the  farm  —  he  performed  from 
obedience  to  his  father's  wishes,  not  that  he 
liked  it.  His  father,  at  that  time,  was  consid- 
ered the  richest  man  in  that  part  of  Halifax,  and 
with  the  exception  of  Stafford  Sturtevant,  his 
cousin,  the  richest  man  in  town.  Dr.  Shurt- 
leff,i  who  was  a  kind  of  family  oracle,  tried  to 
persuade  his  father  to  send  him  to  college,  but 

^  This  was  Dr.  Benjamin  Shurtleff,  later  of  Boston, 
in'whose  honor  Shurtleff  College  at  Alton  is  named. 

4 


of  pioneer  S^llinoi^ 


the  reason  given  was,  not  that  he  could  not 
afford  it,  but  that  if  John  went  the  two  younger 
brothers  would  feel  that  they  had  the  same 
right,  and  he  might  not  be  able  to  send  all. 
So  your  father  was  sent  for  six  months  to 
Bridgewater  Academy,  each  of  the  others  being 
sent  at  the  same  age,  and  for  the  same  length 
of  time. 

Your  grandfather,  John  Tillson,  was  a  kind- 
hearted,  peaceable  man,  very  industrious,  a 
great  worker  indeed;  he  was  a  man  of  excel- 
lent common  sense,  and  better  educated  than 
many  of  his  neighbors;  and  with  such  surround- 
ings, and  his  old  fashioned  notions,  I  do  not 
think  there  are  many  who  would  have  done 
more  for  their  children. 

In  the  year  1818,  Dr.  Shurtleff  having  pur- 
chased a  farm  in  Chelsea,  in  order  to  settle 
his  son  Benjamin  as  a  farmer,  engaged  your 
father  to  go  and  spend  the  summer  at  the  farm, 
and  the  next  winter  he  went  into  Boston  to 
write  for  the  doctor  and  to  arrange  business 
for  going  west  the  next  spring.  It  was  during 
this  winter  he  attended  a  course  of  lectures  on 
chemistry  and  geology,  by  Dr.  Webster  —  who 
afterwards  figured  in  so  fearful  a  tragedy^  — 

2  Dr.  John  W.Webster  was  a  professor  in  Harvard 
University  and  in  the  Boston  Medical  College.  Being 
indebted  to  Dr.  George  Parkman  of  Boston,  who 
threatened  him  with  loss  of  his  position  and  conse- 
quent ruin,  Dr.  Webster  invited  Parkman  to  call  at  his 
lecture  room  at  the  medical  college  on  Nov.  23,  1849, 
and  in  the  course  of  an  altercation  over  the  debt  struck 

5 


91  ^omatf  ^  ^torp 


and  he  also  improved  other  advantages  which 
the  city  offered  for  education. 

Your  father's  inducement  to  go  to  IlHnois 
was  in  consequence  of  the  interest  at  that  time 
in  soldiers'  bounty  lands.  At  the  close  of  the 
War  of  1 8 12  Congress  awarded  to  each  soldier 
who  had  served  in  the  war  a  bounty  of  one 
hundred  and  sixty  acres  of  land,  lying  between 
the  Illinois  and  Mississippi  rivers.  Then  sol- 
diers were  not  generally  of  the  class  to  under- 
take the  enterprise  of  going  to  a  country  so 
new;  and  though  a  few  kept  their  parchments, 
and  did  go  out  to  take  possession  of  the  soil, 
the  majority  sold  their  patents  to  land  specu- 
lators in  the  eastern  cities.  Among  the  pur- 
chasers was  Dr.  B.  Shurtleff  of  Boston,  and 
your  father  was  employed  by  him  to  attend  to 
his  business.  When  the  soldiers  sold  their 
patent  they  also  gave  a  deed,  which  was  to  be 
recorded  in  Illinois.  The  facilities  for  sending 
by  mail,  as  might  now  be  done,  were  so  uncer- 
tain that  it  was  deemed  best  to  employ  agents 
to  go  out  and  attend  to  the  recording  and 
locating,  as  the  land  also  had  to  be  surveyed, 

him  a  fatal  blow  on  the  head.  Instead  of  confessing 
the  affair,  Webster  sought  to  conceal  it  by  dismem- 
bering and  destroying  the  body  in  his  laboratory.  He 
was  found  guilty  of  murder,  sentenced  to  death,  and 
hanged  August  30,  1850.  Because  of  the  standing  of 
the  principals  in  the  tragedy  and  the  circumstances 
under  which  it  was  carried  out,  it  constitutes  one  of 
the  most  celebrated  murder  cases  of  American  crim- 
inal history. 

6 


of  poneer  S^IIinoi^ 


and  laid  off  into  townships,  sections,  and 
quarter-sections.  Consequently  many  young 
men  of  ability,  employed  as  surveyors,  agents, 
and  recorders,  migrated  to  what  was  then 
termed  the  ''Far  West.  " 

Others  went  from  a  desire  to  go  to  a  new 
country  and  establish  themselves  as  farmers 
while  land  was  cheap,  and  as  was  a  common 
saying  with  them  "to  grow  up  with  the  coun- 
try." Among  those  young  emigrants  were 
merchants,  doctors,  lawyers,  farmers,  school- 
masters, and  many  of  them  were  our  most  cher- 
ished friends .  I  have  now  in  my  mind  Augustus 
Collins,  from  Connecticut,  who  settled  in  what 
they  first  named  Unionville,  now  Collinsville. 
He  was  one  of  your  father's  first  and  most 
intimate  friends.  Joel  Wright,  James  Black, 
William  Porter,  Israel  Seward,  William  H. 
Brown,  Benjamin  Mills,  Samuel  Lockwood, 
Robert  Blackwell,  William  S.  Hamilton,  Ed- 
ward Coles,  the  Ross  family,  of  Atlas — five 
brothers  —  H.  H.  Snow,  John  Wood,  Orval 
Dewey,  Hooper  Warren,  Dr.  H.  Newhall,  who 
settled  in  Greenville,  and  was  our  physician; 
he  now  resides  at  Galena.  The  three  Blanch- 
ards,  Samuel,  Seth  and  Elisha,  also  settled  at 
Greenville.  The  Leggetts,  Breaths,  Slocums 
and  Aliens,  who  settled  on  Marine  Prairie, 
Thomas  Lippincott^ — I  have  mentioned  these 

^Many  of  these  men  rose  to  prominence  in  Illinois 
or  elsewhere.  Augustus  Collins  was  one  of  five 
brothers  from  Litchfield,  Connecticut,  who  about  the 


31  ^^omau'is?  «§torp 


on  account  of  their  having  been  our  acquain- 
tances and  personal  friends.  There  are  many 
others  that  I  like  to  keep  in  mind,  and  the 
recollection  of  our  friendly  intercourse  is  to 
me  a  source  of  enjoyment. 

The  two  families  of  Townsends  —  one  from 

year  1817  laid  out  the  town  of  Collinsville,  Illinois, 
They  conducted  several  business  enterprises  and  for 
long  were  thriving  Community  builders .  Joel  Wright 
was  the  first  sheriff  of  Montgomery  County,  serving 
from  1821  to  1826. 

William  H.  Brown  of  New  York  and  Samuel  D. 
Lockwood  of  the  same  state  came  to  lUinois  together 
in  1818,  descending  the  Ohio  River  on  a  flat  boat. 
Brown  soon  became  clerk  of  the  U.  S.  District  Court 
and  lived  at  Vandalia,  the  new  state  capital,  from 
1820  to  1835.  He  then  located  at  Chicago  as  cashier 
of  the  Chicago  branch  of  the  State  Bank  of  Illinois. 
He  was  a  leader  in  the  opposition  to  making  Illinois 
a  slave  state,  was  school  agent  of  Chicago  from  1840 
to  1853,  and  in  numerous  other  activities  served  his 
adopted  city  and  state.  Lockwood  served  in  turn  as 
attorney  general  of  Illinois,  secretary  of  state,  and 
receiver  of  public  moneys  at  Edwardsville.  From 
1825  to  1848  he  was  a  justice  of  the  Supreme  Court  of 
Illinois,  and  from  1851  until  his  death  in  1874  state 
trustee  of  the  Illinois  Central  Railroad. 

Benjamin  Mills  was  a  native  of  Massachusetts  who 
migrated  at  an  early  day  to  the  Illinois  lead  mines 
and  soon  acquired  a  reputation  as  a  brilliant  lawyer 
of  Galena.  Becoming  consumptive,  he  returned  to 
Massachusetts  and  there  died  in  1841. 

Robert  Blackwell  belonged  to  a  family  prominent 
in  the  annals  of  Illinois.  In  1816  he  was  publishing 
the  Kaskaskia  Illinois  Intelligence?-,  in  partnership  with 
Daniel  P.  Cook,  after  whom  Cook  County  was  later 
named.  Mingling  journalism  with  politics ,  Blackwell 
became  Territorial  Auditor  of  Illinois:  the  firm  of 
8 


of  poneer  S^llinoi^ 


Palmyra,  New  York,  and  the  other  from  New 
York  City  —  were  choice  acquaintances.  The 
latter  were  the  parents  of  Mrs.  Hinckley.  Mr. 
Townsend  had  been  a  flour  merchant  in  New 
York,  where  he  had  failed  in  business,  became 
discouraged,  and  his  brother,  a  wealthy  mer- 
chant in  New  York,  entered  land  for  him  in 

Blackwell  and  Berry  were  chosen  state  printers  when 
Illinois  became  a  state.  This  led  Blackwell  to  make 
his  future  home  at  Vandalia. 

William  S.  Hamilton,  son  of  the  famous  statesman, 
Alexander  Hamilton,  removed  from  New  York  to 
Springfield,  Illinois,  in  early  manhood.  In  1827  he 
again  removed  to  the  lead  mine  region  of  south- 
ern Wisconsin,  founded  Wiota,  and  for  twenty  years 
was  prominent  in  the  affairs  of  Wisconsin  and  north- 
western Illinois.  He  joined  the  gold  rush  to  Cali- 
fornia in  1849  and  died  at  Sacramento,  October  9, 
1850. 

Edward  Coles,  second  governor  of  Illinois,  was  a 
Virginian  of  wealthy  connections  and  a  favorite  of 
President  Madison.  In  1819  Coles  removed  to  Illinois 
with  his  slaves,  freeing  them  and  providing  each  head 
of  a  family  with  160  acres  of  land  upon  his  arrival. 
Coles  was  the  leading  figure  in  the  fight  against 
making  IlHnois  a  slave  state  in  the  twenties,  devoting 
to  it  his  entire  gubernatorial  salary  for  several  years. 
In  the  early  thirties  he  removed  to  Philadelphia  where 
he  resided  until  his  death  in  1868. 

Atlas,  now  an  insignificant  hamlet  in  Pike  County, 
was  laid  out  by  five  Ross  brothers  in  the  early  twen- 
ties. It  was  the  county  seat  of  Pike  from  1824  to  1833, 
and  for  a  time  rivaled  Quincy  as  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant points  in  western  Illinois. 

Henry  H.  Snow  was  an  early  resident  of  Alton. 
He  was  one  of  the  three  male  and  five  female  charter 
members  of  the  first  Presbyterian  church  of  Alton, 
founded  in  1821.     For  John  Wood,  who  became  gov- 

9 


V  iiiU 


91  WtxmmVg  ^torp 


Montgomery  County,  about  two  miles  from 
Hillsboro.  Here  Mr.  Townsend  and  family, 
after  residing  awhile  at  Bonhomme,  Missouri, 
settled  and  were  for  many  years  our  most 
intimate  neighbors.  Mrs.  Townsend  was  a 
woman  of  uncommon  energy,  well  educated, 
and  fitted  for  more  intellectual   surroundings 

ernor  of  Illinois,  see  note  7,  post.  Hooper  Warren,  a 
native  of  New  Hampshire,  established  the  Edwards- 
ville  Spectator  in  1819,  and  made  it  the  organ  of  the 
anti-slavery  party  in  the  struggle  of  the  twenties. 
Warren  founded  the  first  paper  at  Springfield,  and  the 
third  published  at  Chicago.  In  later  years  he  retired 
to  a  farm  at  Henry,  Illinois,  and  died  in  1864. 

Dr.  Horatio  Newhall  settled  at  Galena  in  1827, 
and  practiced  medicine  and  journalism  there  for 
several  years.  From  1830  to  1832  he  was  a  surgeon 
in  the  regular  army,  stationed  at  Fort  Winnebago, 
Wisconsin.    His  later  life  was  spent  at  Galena. 

Marine  Township,  Madison  County,  is  named  from 
the  early  settlement  there  in  18 19  of  a  group  of  retired 
sea  captains  from  New  England  and  New  York. 
Included  in  the  number  were  George  C.  Allen  and 
James  Breath,  while  the  location  was  chosen  as  the 
result  of  a  preliminary  investigating  tour  to  the  West 
undertaken  in  18 17  by  Rowland  P.  Allen. 

Rev.  Thomas  Lippincott,  pioneer  Illinois  clergy- 
man, was  a  native  of  New  Jersey  who  came  west  to 
St.  Louis  in  1817.  He  soon  crossed  to  the  Illinois 
side  of  the  Mississippi,  and  after  several  removals,  in 
1825  bought  the  Edwards ville  Spectator  from  Hooper 
Warren.  ^  Not  long  thereafter  he  entered  the  Presby- 
terian ministry  and  became  an  influential  factor  in 
the  upbuilding  of  Presbyterianism  in  Illinois.  Rev. 
Mr.  Lippincott  and  wife  are  credited  whh  organizing 
the  first  Sunday  School  in  Illinois,  at  their  home  at 
Milton  in  1819.  A  son  was  auditor  of  the  state  from 
1869  to  1877. 

10 


of  pioneer  S^Ilinot^ 


than  her  situation  could  give.  Mr.  Townsend 
had  been  a  handsome  New  York  gentleman, 
lacking  her  force  of  character,  but  refined  in 
manners  and  kind  in  feehng,  always  gentle- 
manly except  when  the  blues  made  him  gruff 
and  sullen.  They  had  two  children:  Rosetta, 
who  married  Andrew  Braley,  and  Julia,  Mrs. 
Hinckley.  Both  Rosetta  and  Julia  spent  a 
great  part  of  their  time  in  our  family,  calhng 
your  father  and  myself  papa  and  mamma,  while 
Charles  and  John  had  a  "Parter  Willie"  and 
a  "Mubber  Townsend,"  all  feeling  that  they 
had  two  fathers  and  two  mothers. 

Of  the  other  Townsend  family  you  will  find 
a  record  in  Dr.  Lippincott's  Log  Cabin  Days 
in  the  West.  Both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jesse  Town- 
send  and  their  children,  with  Dr.  Perrine  and 
family,  were  our  intimate  friends.  But  to 
return  to  your  father's  start  for  the  West: 

In  1819  going  to  Illinois  was  more  of  an 
event  than  a  trip  now  would  be  to  the  most  re- 
mote part  of  the  habitable  globe.  No  railroads 
and  steamboats  to  annihilate  time  and  distance 
and  the  good  people  of  Hahfax  were  furnished 
with  a  new  topic  of  conversation  when  it  was 
known  that  John  Tillson  was  going  to  Illinois, 
some  approving,  while  others  thought  it  a  wild 
undertaking,  and  that  he  would  find  it  so  before 
he  was  half  through  his  journey.  He  started 
from  Boston,  taking  passage  on  a  sailing  vessel 
for  Baltimore.  His  companions  in  travel  were 
Moses  Hallet  and  wife,  Cape  Coders.  They 
II 


a  Womm'$  ^torp 


were  married  a  few  days  previous  to  starting 
for  the  West,  and  the  honeymoon  was  divided 
between  the  seasickness  of  the  first  and  the 
landsickness  of  the  latter  part  of  their  journey. 
Mr.  Hallet,  an  honest  and  highminded  Yan- 
kee, but  good-natured  and  mischievous,  amused 
us  with  the  incidents  of  their  travel  when  he 
visited  your  father  in  after  years.  I  do  not 
remember  much  of  their  trip  across  the  moun- 
tains, there  being  then  no  National  Road,  but 
at  Pittsburgh  I  think  they  took  a  flatboat  to 
Shawneetown. 

Your  father's  first  business  on  reaching 
Illinois,  where  he  arrived  in  June,  1 8 19,  was 
with  the  recorder  of  deeds  at  Edwardsville. 
I  think  he  left  his  papers  with  Mr.  Randall, 
the  recorder,  and  went  to  Missouri  on  land 
business.  When  he  returned,  the  office  was  so 
much  crowded  with  previous  business  that  noth- 
ing could  be  done  for  him,  and  Mr.  Randall 
proposed  that  he  should  enter  the  office  as 
clerk  and  write  until  his  deeds  were  recorded, 
which  offer  he  accepted.  Mr.  Randall  had 
two  other  young  men  employed  as  clerks;  one 
now  the  Hon.  Hiram  Rountree^  of  Hillsboro, 
the  other  Joel  Wright  Esq.,  of  Canton,  Fulton 
County,   Illinois.     While  they  were  together 

*  Judge  Hiram  Rountree  was  born  in  North  Caro- 
lina in  1794  and  died  in  1873.  He  came  to  Illinois  in 
1817,  having  studied  law  at  Bowling  Green,  Kentucky. 
In  1821  he  assisted  in  organizing  Montgomery  County, 
and  for  upwards  of  half  a  century  was  an  official  of 
the  county  and  one  of  its  most  influential  citizens. 
12 


ii^-:^ime^ 


JOHN      Tl  L_L.SON 


!OM     AM      Ol 

Q  U  I  N  C  ■ 


NTING      OWNED 
ORICAL     SOCIE- 


vest,  an  .  d 

'he  seac'     .  ...     .. ,  o 

ess  of  the  latter  part  of  their  j^ 

et,  an  honest  and  highmindcvj    .  «n- 

ood-natured  and  mischievous,  amused 

travel  when  he 

irs.     T  do  not 

.  I .  ■  ' '  n  - 

-t 
at  -  ***/HBfe't<iicy«iujuk  a  iiat 

Sha        _ 

Your  father's  first  business  on  reaching 
Illinois,  where  he  arrived  in  June,  1 8 19,  was 
with  the  recorder  of  deeds  at  Edwardsville. 
I  tij'   ~    '      '    "  '  ■  ■^'    ^'c.  Randall, 

the  n  on   land 

-o 


orded, 

Jl  had 

ing  men  s;  one 

r:>j..  l/;l  rum.  Hiram  x\   ..i)..  .    nijisboro, 

ti.L  other  Joel  Wright  Esq.,  of  Canton,  Fulton 
County,  Illinois.     While  they  wet  ler 

'Tiidi-e  Tlirain  "Rountree  was  Voni  in  '>- 

i  in  1873.  '" 

_,  an<J  one  01  irs  most  'in'ucuLn;  <:iiizi:\::>. 
\2 


of  pioneer  ^Pllinoi^ 


in  the  office  during  the  winter  of  1819-20, 
two  or  three  young  men  called  to  see  if  Mr. 
Randall  would  buy  their  land.  They  were 
specimens  of  the  many  disappointed  Yankees 
who  had  gone  west,  spent  all  their  money  for 
land,  and  had  not  the  means  of  getting  back 
to  commence  the  world  anew.  The  three 
clerks,  from  compassion  for  the  poor  fellows, 
each  bought  a  quarter  section  of  land,  paid 
them,  and  sent  them  home  to  their  mammas 
rejoicing.  The  land  was  situated  in  territory 
belonging  either  to  Bond  or  Madison  County, 
forty  miles  north  of  Edwardsville. 

Towards  spring,  having  a  little  ease  from 
business,  they  started  in  search  of  their  new 
possessions,  expecting  to  make  the  journey  in 
a  day,  but  getting  lost  on  a  large  prairie  were 
obliged  to  camp,  and  were  several  days  in 
finding  what  afterwards  became  their  home. 
Mr.  Rountree  and  Mr.  Wright  found  their 
land  just  as  nature  had  made  it.  On  your 
father's  quarter  section  a  squatter  had  made 
what  was  then  termed  "an  improvement," 
said  improvement  consisting  of  a  few  acres 
enclosed  by  a  rail  fence,  with  a  cabin  and 
smoke-house  in  the  center.  The  squatter, 
when  what  they  called  the  "rale  owner" 
made  his  appearance,  expected  to  be  paid  well 
for  all  his  ''improvements,"  and  woe  for  the 
Yankee  who  did  not  "pony  up  well"  to  the 
squatter.  Your  father  had  no  trouble  with 
his  occupant.  The  lord  of  the  soil  was  no  less 
13 


^  ?^Dman'i6?  cStorp 


a  man  than  Commodore  Yoakum,  the  best 
hunter,  the  life  of  the  corn-shuckings,  the  best 
** corner  man"  at  a  log-cabin  raising.  His 
house  was  always  open  to  neighbors  and  his 
friends — though  a  little  like  Madam  Blaze's 
hand. 

At  his  meetings  —  Hard-shell  Baptists  — 
no  one  could  raise  their  voice  louder  in  the 
"hymes,"  Old  Grimes  being  his  favorite  tune. 
After  the  "hymes"  he  would  gird  himself 
with  a  towel,  and  with  a  tin  wash-basin  of 
water  go  around  and  wash  the  feet  of  the 
brethren  and  sisters  with  a  good  grace,  and 
with  as  much  apparent  zest  as  when  he  took 
good  aim  and  brought  down  a  number  of 
prairie  chickens  at  one  shot.  Being  so  clever 
and  handy  while  he  always  maintained  an  air 
of  command,  the  boys  had  honored  him  with 
the  title  of  Commodore,  which  seemed  to 
amuse  and  please  him  exceedingly.  The 
Commodore  was  a  large,  black-eyed,  black- 
bearded,  dark-skinned  Tennesseean.  He  had 
had  a  grand  or  great-grandfather  who  had 
been  a  large  land-owner  and  slave-holder,  and 
that  circumstance,  with  the  fact  that  the  tract 
where  his  ancestors  resided  had  been  distin- 
guished and  still  bore  the  name  of  Yoakum 
Station,  combining  with  his  large  development 
of  esteem,  rendered  our  Commodore,  in  his 
own  estimation,  second  to  no  man. 

On  returning  to  Edwardsville  your  father 
found  quite  a  large  commission  of  new  busi- 
14 


of  pioneer  Sfllinoi^ 


ness  from  Boston  and  New  York,  which  de- 
cided him  about  spending  another  year.  He 
made  the  arrangement  that  his  letters  should 
be  addressed  at  Edwardsville,  having  agreed 
with  Mr.  Randall  that  he  should  record  his 
own  deeds  there,  and  when  a  package  was  com- 
pleted he  would  ride  out  to  the  farm  and  super- 
intend and  work  at  "the  improvement." 

In  the  autumn  of  1820,  in  company  with  a 
surveyor,  he  went  into  Missouri,  was  taken 
with  chills  and  fever,  but  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing his  friend  Hallet's  house,  where  he  was 
well  nursed  and  cared  for.  The  next  winter, 
1820-21,  he,  with  Israel  Seward,  Hiram 
Rountree,  and  Eleazer  Townsend,  went  with 
a  petition  to  the  legislature,  then  in  session, 
asking  that  a  new  county  (Montgomery)  be 
formed  north  of  Fayette  and  Bond,  their  lands 
being  within  the  new  county. ^  Their  petition 
was  granted,  and  in  the  spring  Mr.  Seward 
received  the  appointment  of  probate  judge; 
Mr.  Rountree  was  appointed  county  clerk, 
Mr.  Wright,  sheriff,  and  your  father  was  made 

''Montgomer);  County  was  erected  by  act  of  the 
legislature  early  in  1821.  After  some  bickering  the 
present  site  of  Hillsboro  was  selected  for  the  county 
seat  in  1823.  The  land  thus  chosen  was  not  then 
entered.  The  story  is  told  that  after  some  delay  the 
county-seat  commissioners  heard  of  a  man  named 
Coffey  living  at  some  distance  who  had  fifty  dollars 
in  money.  They  thereupon  sent  for  him  and  induced 
him  to  enter  the  land.  Coffey  did  so,  donated  twenty 
acres  for  public  buildings,  and  proceeded  to  lay  out 
the  town  of  Hillsboro  on  the  remainder  of  the  tract 

15 


a  93^oman^^  ^totp 


postmaster  of  the  county,  but  there  being  no 
mail  route  estabhshed  within  twenty  miles  of 
their  county  seat,  the  expense  of  the  mail  for 
that  distance  devolved  on  the  postmaster. 
This  your  father  turned  into  a  convenience,  and 
there  being  no  regular  place  of  worship  in  his 
own  neighborhood  he  would  ride  down  to 
Greenville  on  Saturday  afternoon  and  return 
on  Monday  with  the  county  mail  in  his  pocket; 
sometimes  in  his  hat.  At  that  time  his  busi- 
ness was  almost  entirely  done  through  corres- 
pondence, and  as  every  letter  from  New  York 
or  Boston  called  for  a  postage  df  twenty-five 
cents,  and  his  business  was  still  increasing,  the 
franking  privilege  was  to  him  a  great  consid- 
eration. 

He  found  at  Greenville  the  Massachusetts 
family  of  Blanchards,  Birge,  the  postmaster, 
a  Vermonter,  Dr.  Newhall,  a  native  of  Lynn, 
Mass.,  a  graduate  of  Harvard  and  a  classmate 
of  Uncle  Charles  Briggs;  also  Benjamin  Mills,  a 
lawyer  of  note,  who,  with  Dr.  Newhall,  after- 
wards removed  to  Galena,  and  Dr.  Perrine, 
who  married  Ann,  a  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Jesse 
Townsend,  altogether  forming  a*very  pleasant 
circle. 

The  good  people  of  Greenville,  wishing  to 
improve  their  music,  had  started  a  singing 
class.  They  requested  your  father  to  meet 
with  them  every  Saturday  night,  when  he 
came  down  for  the  mail,  and  also  to  become 
leader  of  the  choir,  which  he  did.  Being  thus 
i6 


of  ^ionttt  ^fllinoi^ 


established  as  singing  master,  farmer,  land 
agent,  county  treasurer  and.  postmaster,  his 
ties  seemed  strengthening  in  Illinois,  and  he 
changed  his  address  from  Edwardsville  to 
what  was  then  Hamilton,  afterwards  Hillsboro, 
and  took  possession  of  his  cabin.  Here  he, 
with  Wright  and  Rountree,  kept  "Bachelor's 
Hall, "a  small  commencement  at  first,  but  a 
nucleus  for  all  the  sick,  the  homesick,  newly 
arrived,  and  errant  bachelors  generally.  All 
sought  and  took  shelter  at  "Bachelor's  Hall." 
Among  the  arrivals  that  winter  were  Milton 
Shud"tleff  from  Carver,  and  William  Porter 
from  Middleboro.  Porter  was  a  handsome, 
well  educated  young  man,  of  a  character  quite 
the  reverse  of  Shurtleff.  Alas !  for  poor  Por- 
ter; I  will  speak  of  him  hereafter.,  Mr.  John 
Simpson,  a  young  gentleman  from  Boston, 
made  them  a  visit,  and  entered  into  all  their 
labors  and  enjoyments.  On  leaving  he  handed 
your  father  a  note  without  any  remark.  On 
opening  he  found  it  contained  a  list  of  articles 
that  Simpson  had  brought  out  for  his  own  con- 
venience. Each  article  had  the  price  attached 
to  it,  and  enclosed  in  the  note  was  a  very 
valuable  gold  chain,  with  the  price  marked. 
Your  father  looked  over  the  note  and  enclosed 
the  amount  of  money  set  on  the  whole,  and 
putting  the  gold  chain  with  the  cash,  handed 
it  back  to  him.  The  thing  was  so  delicately 
done  that  I  have  always  remembered  it,  and  I 
found  two  years  afterward,  when  I  went  west, 
17 


a  ^oman'^  Moti? 


great  convenience  in  some  of  the  articles  Mr. 
Simpson  had  left.  The  cot  bedstead  and  nar- 
row mattress  was  just  what  I  needed  for  my  little 
Dutch  girl.  A  very  nice  bottle-case  with  cut- 
glass  bottles  and  tumblers,  and  a  few  books 
I  appreciated.  The  nicest  thing  was  a  most 
complete  gentleman's  dressing-case,  which, 
strange  to  say,  had  survived  the  two  years' 
deprivation  of  all  the  bachelors  who  honored 
the  cabin  by  making  themselves  at  home.  Mr. 
Simpson  and  your  father  remained  friends  as 
long  as  Mr.  Simpson  lived.  It  seems  strange 
that  those  who  w^ent  west  at  that  time,  however 
discouraging  their  efforts  might  have  been, 
when  they  returned  to  the  East  cherished  a 
lingering  desire  for  another  attempt,  and  it 
was  very  common  for  them  to  return  for  a 
second  experience.  Such  was  the  tragic  story 
of  Mr.  Simpson. 

Sometime  in  1 821  your  father  went  on  an 
exploring  trip,  his  object  being  to  survey  and 
report  to  non-residents  the  condition  of  their 
lands  lying  between  the  Mississippi  and  Illinois 
Rivers;  he  took  with  him  a  hunter  and  two 
other  men.  They  were  out  three  weeks,  and 
only  two  or  three  times  did  it  fall  to  their  lot 
to  find  a  shelter  for  the  night  other  than  the 
lone  forest  or  the  broad  prairie.  They  would 
generally  find  some  spring  or  water  course, 
where  they  would  build  their  fire.  The  hunter, 
who  acted  as  caterer  and  cook,  would  cut  slices 
from  the  game  that  he  had  secured  through 
i8 


of  ^ioncei:  S^llinox^ 


the  day,  cooking  them  on  sharp  sticks  before 
the  fire,  one  end  being  driven  in  the  ground, 
would  soon  treat  them  to  a  palatable  meal,  and 
when  their  repast  was  ended  they  would  enjoy 
a  sound  sleep,  finding  their  saddles  when  con- 
verted into  pillows  as  useful  as  the  famous 
chest  of  drawers,  which  also  was  a  bed  at 
night.  As  the  red  brethren  have  a  liking  for 
good  horses,  and  the  prairie  wolves  a  keen 
scent  for  a  good  lunch,  I  believe  they  found  it 
necessary  to  keep  a  kind  of  gander  watch,  one 
standing  sentinel  while  the  others  slept. 

They  crossed  the  Illinois  near  the  mouth. 
At  that  time,  I  think,  there  was  but  one  county 
on  the  military  tract  and  what  now  constitutes 
Calhoun  and  Pike  was  all  one  county,  under 
the  name  of  Pike.^  John  Shaw,  one  of  the 
first  settlers,  and  a  great  politician  and  fond 
of  rule,  made  himself  conspicuous  in  Pike  at 
that  time.  He  was  a  large,  dark-complexioned 
man,  with  a  power  to  lead,  and  to  gather  about 
him  warm  friends,  while  his  peculiarities  were 
such  as  to  insure  for  him  an  equal  amount  of 
antagonism.  He  —  by  those  not  in  subjection 
to  him  —  was  known  as  **The  Black  Prince  of 
the  Kingdom  of  Pike."  Your  father  partook 
of  the  hospitality  of  his  bachelor  cabin,  which 

^Pike  County  was  organized  in  182 1,  being  one  of 
the  first  counties  erected  after  the  admission  of  Illi- 
nois to  statehood.  Its  original  boundaries  included 
all  of  Illinois  north  and  west  of  the  Illinois  and  its 
affluent,  the  Kankakee. 

19 


31  ^oman'^  ^torp 


was  returned  in  full  after  we  were  house- 
keepers, as  we  chanced  to  be  on  his  road  to 
the  seat  of  government.  He  had  been  elected 
from  his  *  'Kingdom  of  Pike"  to  the  legislature, 
where  he  was  always  known  as  a  troublesome 
member. 

The  course  of  the  exploring  party  from  Pike 
was  northward,  following  the  course  of  the 
Mississippi.  Before  reaching  what  is  now 
Quincy,  they  passed  a  night  with  two  bachelors 
from  northern  New  York.  In  his  journal  he 
noted  that  thes^  two  young  men  would  prob- 
ably become  permanent  settlers,  and  had  the 
requisites  of  character  to  become  good  citizens, 
a  settlement  having  such  a  nucleus  being,  to 
his  mind,  an  important  item  in  estimating  the 
value  of  the  adjacent  lands.  What  sagacity 
was  manifested  in  that  conclusion  will  be  left 
to  those  who  for  more  than  forty  years  have 
known  Governor  John  Wood  and  Willard 
Keyes  Esq.,  of  Quincy,  the  young  New  Yorkers 
of  log-cabin  remembrance. 

Mr.  Wood  and  your  father  arrived  in  Illinois 
about  the  same  time,  Mr.  Wood  going  north, 
your  father  remaining  at  Edwardsville,  though 
they  had  not  known  of  each  other  before  the 
meeting  at  the  cabin.  Mr.  Keyes  went  out 
about  the  same  time,  but  I  think  was  a  school- 
master somewhere  near  the  Wabash  River 
previous  to  joining  Mr.  Wood7 

'John  Wood  was  a  New  Yorker  who  came  to  Illi- 
nois in  early  manhood  in  1819.    In  March,  1820,  in 
20 


of  pioneer  S^llinoiief 


Towards  the  end  of  their  exploration  they 
happened  upon  the  premises  of  Ossian  M. 
Ross,  who,  with  a  sturdy  wife,  had  just  settled 
himself  at  what  is  now  Lewistown,  Fulton 
County.^     The   travelers    arrived    there   in   a 

company  with  Willard  Keyes,  he  located  a  farm  in 
Pike  County  about  thirty-five  miles  southeast  of 
Quincy.  In  182 1  he  visited  the  site  of  Quincy  and 
soon  thereafter  purchased  a  quarter  section  of  land 
and  erected  the  first  building  where  the  city  now 
stands.  Until  his  death  in  1880,  aside  from  temporary 
absences,  Quincy  remained  the  home  of  Governor 
Wood.  During  this  period  of  almost  sixty  years  he 
held  numerous  offices,  local  and  state,  the  best  known 
of  these,  perhaps,  being  the  governorship  of  Illinois. 
His  residence,  a  beautiful  colonial  mansion  erected 
in  1835,  is  now  the  home  of  the  Quincy  Historical 
Society. 

Willard  Keyes  was  born  on  a  Vermont  farm  in 
1792.  In  1817  he  came  west  to  Prairie  du  Chien  in 
the  party  of  Rev.  Samuel  Peters,  who  was  seeking  to 
secure  confirmation  to  himself  of  the  noted  grant  of 
Wisconsin  land  made  to  Jonathan  Carver,  the  ex- 
plorer, in  1767.  Peters  returned  to  the  East  in  the 
spring  of  1818,  but  Keyes  remained  at  Prairie  du 
Chien,  conducting  one  of  the  first  schools  in  Wiscon- 
sin. In  the  spring  of  1819  he  journeyed  on  a  raft 
down  river  to  Clarksville,  Mo.,  where  he  lay  sick  for 
six  months.  Not  long  after  this  he  entered  the  farm- 
ing parnership  with  Governor  Wood  already  noted. 
In  the  spring  of  1824  he  followed  Wood  to  Quincy, 
and  built  the  second  house  there.  Until  his  death  in 
1872  he  remained  one  of  the  leading  citizens  of  the 
place.  Mr.  Keyes  prospered  financially,  and  with  the 
proceeds  of  a  bequest  made  by  him  Willard  Hall 
was  built  by  the  Chicago  Theological  Seminary. 

^Ossian  M.  Ross  was  a  New  Yorker  who  served 
in  the  War  of  1812  and  thereby  acquired  title  to  land 
21 


31  ]^omair^  ^torp 


most  hungry  condition;  their  stock  of  crackers 
being  spent  they  had  Hved  on  meat  and  water 
for  a  day  or  two.  Ross  received  them  very 
graciously,  and  the  good  wife  set  herself  about 
preparing  a  meal  for  the  hungry  guests,  which 
was  supplied  with  abundance,  and  apparent 
good  nature,  though  looking  terribly  aghast  at 
the  havoc  made  on  her  stores  of  honey,  bacon, 
and  corn-dodgers.  I  wonder  if  it  then  ever 
crossed  her  mind  that  one  of  her  barefooted, 
smooth-faced  hopefuls  would  ever  figure  as  a 
representative  in  Congress,  at  Washington. 

While  on  this  survey,  he  encountered  sev- 
eral other  explorists,  and  it  was  amusing  to 
hear  of  the  raptures  of  some  of  them.  One 
old  gentleman — a  good  Methodist — followed 
the  course  of  the  Mississippi,  and  the  farther 
north  he  advanced  the  more  enthusiastic  he 
became  in  admiration  of  the  country,  and 
when  he  arrived  at  the  point  where  Quincy 
now  is,  and  clambered  to  the  top  of  the  high 
mound  that  overlooked  the  noble  river,  his 
raptures  knew  no  bounds,  and  throwing  up 
his  arms  he  exclaimed:    "Glory,  glory,  glory  ! 

in  the  Military  Tract.  He  settled  on  it  in  1821,  and 
the  town*of  Lewiston,  named  in  honor  of  his  son, 
Lewis  Ross,  was  soon  after  laid  out  on  a  portion  of  it. 
Fulton  County  was  organized  in  1823,  and  Lewiston 
was  made  the  county  seat.  Until  1829  Ross  was  the 
leading  citizen  of  the  new  settlement.  In  that  year 
he  moved  to  Havana,  becoming  the  first  permanent 
settler  of  Mason  County.  Here  he  passed  the  re- 
mainder of  his  life. 


of  ^imttt^llimi^ 


I'm  on  the  Mount!  the  Mount!  I'm  on  the 
Mount  of  Glory  !  "  How  would  his  righteous 
soul  be  vexed  could  he  witness  the  demolition 
of  his  Mount  Pisgah,  through  which  is  made 
the  deep  cut  called  Main  Street?  A  young 
blade  from  New  York  or  Philadelphia,  after 
visiting  the  "Bounty  Tract,"  and  crossing  the 
Illinois  River  at  Peoria  Lake,  went  into  ec- 
stasies in  describing  the  beauties  of  the 
scenery,  and  found,  to  his  own  surprise,  that 
he  was  a  poet,  and  declared  that  he  could  not 
leave  without  giving  utterance  to  his  feelings, 
not  only  because  he  had  enjoyed  so  much,  but 
that  the  sublimity  should  raise  him  to  poetic 
transports,  as  an  evidence  of  which  he  sent 
the  following  to  his  bachelor  friends: 

*'  I  am  all  in  my  glory  when  I  think  of  Peoria, 
That  gentle  and  beautiful  lake. 
Where  the  goose  and  the  swan  do  the  waters 
adorn, 
There  pleasure  I  mean  for  to  take. 

With  a  wife  by  my  side  down  the  waters  I'll 
ghde 
With  a  love  that  shall  banish  all  fear; 
And  then  we  will  roam  to  our  cabin,  our 
home. 
Nor  dream  that  an  Indian  is  near." 

I  have  forgotten  the  rest. 

Towards  the  spring  of  1 82 1  Shurtleff,  who 
had  been  a  few  months  in  the  country,  having 
fully  decided  to  take  to  himself  a  wife,  in- 
formed your  father  of  the  fact.  He  said  he 
had  had  his  pick  of  all  the  native  girls,  and  had 
23 


a  ^oman'^  J^torp 


decided  on  the  ** Squire's  daughter,  Polly." 
He  had  popped  the  question,  secured  his 
bird,  but  how  about  a  cage  ?  Would  your 
father  let  him  bring  his  bride  to  the  cabin 
and  she  become  housekeeper,  and  be  their 
boarder?  Your  father  was  willing,  so  Shurtleff 
went  to  St.  Louis,  bought  Polly  a  silk  dress 
and  a  straw  bonnet  and  they  were  married, 
and  became  host  and  hostess  of  the  establish- 
ment. The  bonnet  and  dress  had  a  magic 
influence  on  the  mind  of  pretty  Polly,  as  she 
had  never  before  worn  anything  that  had  not 
been  woven  by  her  good  mother,  spun  from 
the  cotton  raised  in  their  "patch,"  (garden), 
and  colored  by  indigo  weed  of  their  own 
growing.  The  dress  and  bonnet  were  also  a 
subject  of  deep  interest  in  the  settlement. 
Those  who  did  not  see  her  wear  them  "to 
preaching,"  could  yet  have  the  benefit  of  call- 
ing at  the  cabin.  Some  thought  Polly  "too 
much  set  up,"  but  on  the  whole  it  was  agreed 
that  she  bore  her  honors  meekly. 

Poor  Polly.  In  speaking  of  Polly  I  omitted 
to  say  that  she  was  a  daughter  of  Esquire 
Kilpatrick,  familiarly  called  "Squire  Davy," 
and  as  they  were  our  nearest,  and  indeed  our 
most  reliable  neighbors  among  the  "white 
folks,"  we  were  brought  into  closer  acquaint- 
ance than  with  any  others.  Perhaps  I  should 
explain  that  "white  folks"  was  a  name  given 
in  derision  to  the  first  emigrants  from  the  west- 
ern and  southern  states.     An  old  Tennessee 


24 


of  pioneer  S^Iltnoii^ 


woman  who  had  a  terrific  opinion  of  the 
Yankees,  said:  "I  am  getting  skeery  about  them 
'ere  Yankees;  there  is  such  a  power  of  them 
coming  in  that  they  and  the  Injuns  will  squatch 
out  all  the  white  folks."  Nothing  afterward 
would  exasperate  them  more  than  to  have  a 
Yankee  call  them  white  folks. 

When  your  father  first  went  to  look  after 
his  farm  he  wanted  a  boarding  place,  and 
"Squire  Davy's"  was  recommended.  He 
and  Wright  accordingly  took  board  there  un- 
til their  cabin  was  built,  and  Commodore 
Yoakum  had  removed,  thereby  leaving  his 
cabin  for  their  stable.  The  'Squire  had,  I  be- 
lieve, been  a  schoolmaster  in  Barrens,  Ken- 
tucky, the  place  from  which  they  came.  His 
wife  was  naturally  smart  and  industrious,  the 
latter  qualification  minus  in  "  Squire  Davy." 
She  could  read,  and  entered  into  all  the  political 
interests  that  came  to  her  knowledge;  kept 
herself  and  family  clean  and  comfortably  clad. 
She,  with  her  daughters,  Peggy  and  Polly, 
had  mauled  rails  enough  to  fence  a  "truck 
patch,"  and  a  cotton  and  indigo  patch.  Here 
every  year  she  planted  her  cotton,  indigo, 
cabbage,  potatoes,  and  whatever  else  the  wants 
and  appetites  of  her  family  called  for.  The 
whole  family  were  clothed  in  the  winter  in 
linsey  and  cotton,  all  of  their  own  manufac- 
ture. During  the  summer  a  skirt  with  a  waist 
of  copperas  and  blue  plaid  homespun,  with  a 
necessary  undergarment,  constituted  the  dress 
25 


at  Woxnan'^  ^torp 


of  the  female  portion  of  the  family,  with  the 
exception  of  Mrs.  Kilpatrick,  who  very  wisely 
covered  her  neck  with  a  kerchief  made  of  the 
same  material  as  their  dresses.  She  was  a 
short,  broad,  square-built,  woman,  and  the 
kerchief,  a  yard  square,  was  none  too  ample 
to  protect  her  well  developed  proportions. 

I  have  been  thus  particular  in  my  descrip- 
tion that  you  may,  in  imagination,  look  at  two 
handsome  young  gentlemen  seated  at  the  table 
with  the  'Squire  and  lady,  Peggy  and  Polly. 
Six  was  the  number  usually  at  log  cabin  tables, 
for  the  reason  that  six  plates,  one  platter,  six 
knives  and  forks,  six  tin  cups  —  or,  possibly 
among  the  more  aristocratic,  six  cups  and 
saucers — constituted  the  table  outfit.  On  a 
little  bench  in  the  corner  of  the  cabin  stood 
the  water  bucket,  with  a  gourd,  for  drinking. 
It  was  the  custom  for  each  one,  after  being 
satisfied  with  the  solids  at  the  table,  to  walk 
to  the  bucket  and  take  their  last  course  from 
the  gourd.  Then,  while  the  younger  scions 
were  scrambling  for  what  remained  on  the 
table,  the  older  members  of  the  family — both 
male  and  female  —  would  seat  themselves 
comfortably  around  the  fire  with  each  a  pipe, 
showing  their  own  inventive  genius.  Several 
varieties  might  be  seen  on  such  occasions,  but 
the  most  common  was  a  piece  of  corn-cob  dug 
out  for  the  bowl  of  the  pipe,  with  an  alder 
quill  inserted  for  the  stem. 

Two  such  young  men  as  our  young  bachelors 
2b 


of  pioneer  S^Hinoi^ 


coming  into  the  settlement,  buying  land,  and 
actually  going  to  work  on  their  farms,  created 
quite  a  sensation,  and  some  looked  with  an  evil 
eye  on  the  'Squire  for  taking  the  two  Yankees 
into  his  family;  some  had  always  thought  that 
"Old  Davy  was  little  better  than  a  Yankee, 
anyhow."  Some  thought  his  wife  had  an  eye 
for  the  future  of  her  daughters;  that  Polly 
might  do  for  Tillson,  but  as  for  Peggy  it  was 
decided  she  was  too  ugly  even  for  a  Yankee, 
although  they  were  sure  Mrs.  Kilpatrick  was 
for  ** hitching  her  to  Wright."  Jesse  Buzan 
and  Milton  Shurtleff  arriving  settled  that  ques- 
tion, but  the  neighbors  thought  Davy  and  wife 
were  "awful  spited"  —  disappointed  —  at  not 
getting  Wright  and  Tillson. 

Those  who  now  go  to  the  Far  West  can  look 
forward  to  a  rapid  improvement,  and  with  the 
facihties  for  traveling  do  not  feel  that  where 
they  have  set  themselves  down  is  the  place  they 
must  stay,  or  leave  at  a  great  sacrifice,  and 
they  can  have  but  little  idea  of  the  discourage- 
ments the  young  adventurers  of  that  country 
must  have  encountered.  Nothing  but  a  most 
indomitable  perseverance  could  have  caused 
them  to  remain,  and  I  have  felt  like  attributing 
to  them  a  higher  commendation  than  has  yet 
been  accorded  to  such.  The  new  arrangement 
and  change  from  bachelor  housekeeping  did 
not  prove  pleasant.  Mine  host  showed  his 
cloven  foot  in  various  ways.  He  quarreled 
with  his  wife's  relations,  and  Mrs.  Kilpatrick, 

2^ 


91  l^oman'^  .Storp 


after  an  encounter  with  her  son-in-law,  would 
report  it  to  your  father.  While  with  them 
your  father  had  a  shake  of  the  ague;  knowing 
he  had  nothing  to  hope  for  there,  in  case  of  sick- 
ness, and  feeling  pretty  sure,  as  the  natives 
termed  it,  that  he  was  "in  for  a  smart  grip  of 
agy,"  he  staited  at  night  and  rode  to  Rev.  Mr. 
Townsend's,  seven  miles  towards  Edwardsville, 
where  he  stayed  to  have  another  shake.  The 
next  being  the  intermediate  day,  he  rode  to 
Mr.  Hoxie's,  twenty-five  miles  farther,  and 
waited  over  there  for  another  shake,  which 
Mrs.  Hoxie  said  "beat  all  the  shakes  she  ever 
saw;  he  shuck  the  hull  cabin."  The  next  day 
he  went  to  Edwardsville,  where  he  was  kindly 
nursed  and  cared  for  by  Mrs.  Randall,  the  good 
old  Methodist  lady  he  had  boarded  with,  and 
mother  to  Mr.  Randall,  the  recorder.  When 
he  thought  himself  well  enough  he  went  over 
to  Missouri,  but  the  fatigue  of  the  journey 
brought  on  a  relapse.  He  was  fortunate,  how- 
ever, in  reaching  his  friend  Hallet's. 

In  the  spring  of  1822  he  rented  his  cabin  to 
Mr.  Rountree.  Shurtleff,  having  entered  land 
adjoining  his  farm,  put  up  a  cabin,  where  with 
his  Polly  he  commenced  —  as  he  termed  it  — 
"on  his  own  hook."  Mr.  Rountree  was  also 
putting  up  a  cabin  on  his  own  land.  Joel 
Wright  built  the  same  year  on  his  quarter  sec- 
tion, so  there  was  quite  a  log-cabin  neighbor- 
hood within  a  mile  square.  The  cabins  could 
be  seen  from  each  other  in  the  winter,  but  in 
28 


of  pioneer  ^FlUnoi^ 


the  summer  the  thick  foliage  and  the  high 
corn-fields  shut  out  all  intrusion  from  prying 
neighbors,  and  equally  all  sense  of  human  com- 
panionship, making  at  times  the  truth  of  Alex- 
ander Selkirk's  lines,  "I  am  monarch  of  all  I 
survey,"  &c.,  more  forcible  than  poetic. 

In  April  your  father  and  Mr.  Augustus  Collins 
started  together  on  horseback,  one  for  Con- 
necticut, the  other  for  Massachusetts,  both  on 
the  same  errand.  Mr.  Collins  married  a  Miss 
Sanders — she  is  now  the  wife  of  Dr.  Gillett, 
of  Jacksonville,  Illinois.  It  was  the  plan  that 
we  should  all  return  in  company  to  Illinois, 
but  your  father  being  detained  by  business  we 
did  not  start  until  a  week  later,  and  it  became 
one  of  the  occupations  of  our  journey  to  study 
the  hotel  registers,  looking  for  the  record  of 
their  family.  Besides  Augustus  Collins  and 
wife,  were  his  father  and  mother,  his  sisters, 
Miss  Eliza,  Miss  Almira  (since  Mrs.  Giddings), 
and  Maria,  the  youngest,  a  beautiful  and 
accomplished  young  lady,  who  died  not  long 
after  their  arrival;  four  brothers,  Anson, 
Michael,  William,  and  Frederic,  the  last  the 
only  surviving  one. 

After  reaching  Illinois  we  kept  up  as  much 
of  an  acquaintance  as  the  distance  of  our  loca- 
tion would  admit,  your  father  and  Mr.  Collins 
always  retaining  their  kind  feeling  toward  each 
other,  and  the  friendship  commencing  so  early 
has  always  been  cherished  by  me,  and  I  have 
ever  felt  a  warm  attachment  for  that  family, 
29 


a  ^a^oman'sf  J>torp 


and  have  regretted  that  I  did  not  more  fre- 
quently see  Mrs.  Giddings  after  her  coming  to 
Quincy.  It  was  in  the  summer  of  1825  that 
we  made  our  first  visit  to  the  Collins  family. 
We  met  there  Mr.  Giddings,  who,  as  I  after- 
wards found,  was  looking  among  the  eastern 
ladies  for  a  better  half,  and  the  result  was  his 
marriage  the  next  year  to  Miss  Almira  Collins. 
I  did  not  again  see  Mrs.  Giddings  until  after 
the  birth  of  Frederic,  in  the  autumn  of  1827.  At 
that  time  Augustus  Collins,  with  his  brother 
Anson,  had  commenced  business  in  St.  Louis, 
leaving  his  father  and  mother  in  Unionville 
(now  Collinsville).  William  Collins  had  mar- 
ried, and  occupied  the  old  mansion,  and  with 
his  brothers  was  engaged  in  the  flour  business, 
and  running  a  distillery.  The  latter,  though  a 
business  of  much  profit,  they  gave  up  for  con- 
science sake.  When  the  Collins  family,  father 
and  sons,  decided  to  give  up  distilling,  the  old 
lady  would  not  consent  to  have  the  still  sold, 
but  had  it  bruised  and  so  demolished  that  it 
could  only  be  sold  for  old  copper.  She  said 
"no  more  sin  and  misery  should  come  from 
that  still." 


30 


of  pioneer  S^llinoi^ 


OUR  JOURNEY 

In  1822  it  was  still  a  great  event  to  under- 
take a  journey  to  Illinois,  and  many  were  the 
direful  remarks  and  conclusions  about  my  going. 
Your  grandmother  dreaded  my  starting  without 
any  lady  companion,  and  was  much  relieved  to 
find  that  a  Mrs.  Cushman,  a  widow  lady,  whose 
husband  had  been  a  lawyer  in  Halifax,  and  who 
had  but  one  child  —  a  son,  settled  near  Cincin- 
nati—  was  waiting  an  opportunity  to  go  and 
end  her  days  with  her  beloved  Joshua,  and  that 
your  father  had  offered  her  a  seat  in  our  carriage, 
which  offer  had  been  accepted.  Your  uncle 
Robert  was  also  to  go.  The  carriage  had 
been  built  at  Bedford,  Massachusetts,  under 
your  father's  directions,  expressly  for  the  jour- 
ney. Your  Great-grandmother  Briggs  had 
seen  the  carriage  pass  her  house,  and  in  tell- 
ing how  she  felt  at  parting  with  her  eldest 
granddaughter,  and  the  sadness  it  had  given 
her  to  see  the  carriage  that  was  to  take  me 
away,  was  not  aware  that  she  said  "hearse" 
instead  of  carriage.  It  amused  those  who 
heard  it,  but  they  had  too  much  reverence  for 
her  feelings  to  tell  her  of  the  mistake. 

How  hard  it  is  to  shake  off  the  sadness  of 
our  young  days.  Partings,  the  breaking  up  of 
families  and  home  attachments,  have  always 
been  to  me  particularly  painful,  and  the  sad 
forebodings  I  was  constantly  hearing  at  that 
time  of  the  fearful  journey,  and  the  dismal 
31 


a  9^oman'^  ^torp 


backwoods  life  which  awaited  me  were  not 
calculated  to  dispel  the  clouds  that  would 
sometimes  come  over  me.  I  did  not  know 
then,  as  I  realize  now,  that  I  was  more  ready 
to  be  influenced  by  fears  than  by  hopes.  My 
timidity  through  life  has  been  my  infirmity, 
want  of  self-confidence  and  a  shrinking  from 
notoriety  marked  my  early  life;  and  it  is  only 
from  a  sense  of  duty  to  myself  and  children 
that  I  have,  in  a  measure,  overcome  the  folly 
that  has  kept  me  back  from  many  good  per- 
formances. 

I  did  not  intend  to  enter  into  an  investigation 
of  my  own  particular  temper  and  disposition, 
but  found  myself  —  before  I  was  aware  of  it  — 
doling  out  my  shortcomings.  It  has  been  my 
misfortune  to  dwell  on  my  own  weakness. 


We  left  my  father's  house  at  Kingston, 
October  6,  1822.^    Our  carriage  being  some- 

^Mrs.  Tillson's  narrative  of  her  journey  from  Mas- 
sachusetts to  Illinois  may  profitably  be  compared 
with  O.  M.  Spencer's  account  of  a  similar  journey 
taken  by  his  parents  a  third  of  a  century  earlier, 
published  in  the  volume  of  the  Lakeside  Classics 
series  for  19 17  {The  Indian  Capti'vity  of  O.  M.  Spencer 
3-12).  The  Spencers  journeyed  by  the  Forbes  Road, 
later  known  as  the  Pennsylvania  Road,  across  Penn- 
sylvania to  a  tributary  of  the  Ohio,  traveling  thence 
by  waterto  Cincinnati.  TheTillsons,  setting  out  from 
Plymouth  County,  Massachusetts,  followed  m  general 
the  shore  line  to  New  York  city.  From  here  they 
crossed  New  Jersey  to  Philadelphia  and  thence  made 

32 


of  ^iontct  3^iIinot^ 


what  such  a  vehicle  as  we  would  now  call  a 
two  seated  buggy,  at  that  time  the  name  buggy 
was  not  known.  The  seats  were  so  made  that 
a  trunk  could  be  fitted  under  each  one  of  them, 
and  there  was  room  in  front  for  a  bonnet  trunk 
that  held  my  leghorn  bonnet,  and  a  portman- 
teau containing  the  gentlemen's  change  of 
clothing.  Mrs.  Cushman's  trunk  rode  behind, 
and  with  a  little  bamboo  basket  containing  my 
night  clothes,  brushes,  &c.,  and  a  lunch  basket, 
we  found  ourselves  pretty  closely  packed. 

their  way  southwesterly  to  Cumberland,  Maryland, 
which  was  the  eastern  terminus  of  the  great  National 
Road.  Construction  of  this  had  been  begun  in  1811, 
and  by  1 8 1 8  had  been  carried  to  Wheeling  on  the  Ohio 
at  an  average  cost  per  mile  of  $ 1 3 ,  000.  In  later  years 
the  National  Road  was  carried  westward  across  cen- 
tral Ohio  and  Indiana,  with  St.  Louis  as  its  ultimate 
goal.  The  latter  point  was  never  reached,  however, 
the  development  of  other  routes  and  methods  of  trans- 
portation causing  the  discontinuance  of  the  project. 
Over  this  great  highway  poured  a  flood  of  traffic,  both 
passenger  and  freight,  and  the  National  Road  was  one 
of  the  important  agencies  in  the  development  of  the 
West.  From  Wheeling  the  Tillsons  followed  Zane's 
Trace  through  Zanesville  and  Lancaster  to  Chilli- 
cothe.  As  far  as  Zanesville  this  was  later  the  route  of 
the  National  Roadwhenin  1825  construction  westward 
from  Wheehng  was  begun.  The  National  Road  con- 
tinued due  westward  to  Columbus  and  Indianapolis, 
while  Zane's  Trace  turned  southwestwardly  to  Mays- 
ville  on  the  Ohio,  whence  the  highway  continued  to 
Lexington  in  Kentucky.  At  some  point  between 
Chillicothe  and  Maysville  the  Tillsons  turned  west- 
ward to  Williamsburg  (in  eastern  Clermont  County) 
and  thence  to  Cincinnati. 

33 


a  Woman'^  ^torp 


We  were  to  travel  at  about  the  rate  of  one 
hundred  miles  in  three  days,  and  St.  Paul-like, 
commenced  our  journey  coast-wise.  We  passed 
through  Providence,  stopping  to  dine  with  Seth 
Allen,  who  had  formerly  been  a  neighbor  of 
your  Grandfather  Tillson's.  I  speak  of  this 
because  theirs  were  the  last  faces  I  saw  of 
those  I  had  known  before,  and  not  until  four 
years  after,  when  your  Uncle  Charles  arrived 
in  Illinois,  did  I  see  any  face  that  I  had  before 
looked  upon  after  leaving  the  Aliens'  on  my 
second  day  from  home.  Our  course  carried 
us  along  the  southern,  the  shore  line  of  Con- 
necticut, passing  through  New  Haven.  We 
arrived  at  New  York  in  eight  days.  It  being 
my  first  visit,  I  was  much  disappointed  to  find 
the  city  almost  depopulated  by  the  yellow 
fever. 10  We  knew  before  starting  that  the 
fever  was  prevailing  to  some  extent;  but  as  in- 
telligence did  not  then,  as  now,  go  with  light- 
ning speed,  and  we  had  been  so  long  on  the 
way,  the  extent  of  the  sickness  was  not  known 
to  us.  We  rode  into  New  York  in  the  morning, 
but  it  had  a  very  desolate  appearance.  The 
inhabitants  had  closed  their  places  of  business, 

^"William  Newnham  Blane,  a  portion  of  whose 
Excursion  through  the  United  States  and  Canada  during 
the  Years  1822-1823  was  reprinted  in  Pictures  of  Illi- 
nois One  Hundred  Years  Ago,  the  preceding  volume  in 
the  Lakeside  Classics,  was  in  New  York  at  the  same 
time  as  Mrs.  Tillson,  and  in  his  book  of  travels  gives 
a  vivid  picture  of  the  conditions  there  during  the  yel- 
low fever  epidemic. 

34 


of  pioneer  S^Hxnot^ 


and  the  merchants  had  removed  their  goods 
out  of  what  was  then  termed  the  city.  The 
place  where  Union  Square  now  is,  was  country, 
and  those  who  were  wilHng  to  risk  the  chances 
of  yellow  fever  so  near  them  had  erected  shan- 
ties and  were  displaying  their  goods.  There 
was  a  large  brick  building  where  an  Irishman 
kept  a  decent  tavern.  They  were  holding  a 
political  caucus  the  night  we  stopped  there. 

At  Philadelphia  we  stayed  a  day,  putting  up 
at  a  Quaker  boarding  house.  We  went  out  and 
bought  a  white  merino  shawl  and  some  winter 
trimmings  for  my  large  leghorn  bonnet.  We 
did  not  then  change  as  often  as  now,  having  a 
winter,  spring,  summer,  and  fall  bonnet.  Those 
who  had  a  nice  leghorn,  as  was  mine,  changed 
the  trimmings  with  the  season.  Those  who 
could  afford  it  wore  ostrich  feathers  in  the 
winter,  while  in  the  summer  flowers  were  sub- 
stituted. Feathers  at  that  time  were  thought 
to  be  in  bad  taste  for  summer  wear.  I  enjoyed 
my  day  in  Philadelphia;  also  my  whole  journey 
through  New  Jersey  and  Pennsylvania.  The 
country  was  very  different  from  anything  I  had 
seen.  Having  been  brought  up  on  the  sandy 
soil  of  the  old  Colony,  among  the  pine  woods, 
where  every  farmer  is  a  poor  man,  and  those 
who  have  farms  and  are  rich  have  made  them- 
selves so  by  manufacture  or  commerce,  it 
seemed  strange  to  see  the  big  Dutch  barns, 
which  in  the  distance  we  continually  mistook 
for  churches.  The  inhabitants  also  interested 
35 


a  Wnman'^  ^torp 


me.  We  stopped  every  night,  and  between 
Philadelphia  and  Lancaster  found  ourselves  in 
houses  where  they  could  not  speak  a  word  of 
English,  and  our  pantomime  performances 
were  sometimes  very  amusing.  I  can  now 
recall  some  things  which  occurred  while  your 
father  and  I  were  trying  to  come  to  some 
understanding  with  the  host  and  hostess.  I 
can  now  see  your  Uncle  Robert  in  his  mulberry 
suit,  both  arms  hanging  straight  from  his 
shoulders,  not  speaking  or  moving  himself,  but 
good-naturedly  watching  the  movements  of  the 
rest. 

Arrived  at  Wheeling  we  stopped  for  break- 
fast, and  then  in  a  ferry  boat  crossed  the  Ohio, 
where  I  was  somewhat  disappointed.  The  riv- 
er was  very  low  at  that  time,  and  its  narrow 
stream  between  two  sandy  shores  I  looked  on 
with  other  eyes  and  other  emotions  than  I  had  in 
store  for  the  * '  beautiful  Ohio. ' '  From  Wheel- 
ing we  went  across  the  country  to  Williams- 
burgh,  a  town  twenty  miles  from  Cincinnati, 
where  we  were  to  leave  Mrs.  Cushman  with 
her  son.  I  should  like  to  describe  Mrs.  Cush- 
man, but  now  feel  like  plodding  my  way 
through  Ohio.  After  crossing  the  Ohio  River, 
a  new  scene  opened  to  me,  and  my  initiation 
to  a  new  country  began.  From  Cumberland, 
Pennsylvania,  to  Wheeling,  we  had  traveled  on 
the  National  Road,  but  it  extended  no  farther, 
and  after  that  we  were  left  to  make  our  way  as 
best  we  could  over  such  roads  as  Ohio  at  that 
36 


of  ^ionttt  3^Ilinoi^ 


time  could  offer.  When  we  were  wading 
through  swampy,  boggy  bottom  lands  we  hailed 
a  corduroy  with  joy,  not  that  corduroys  were  our 
particular  fancy,  but  anything  for  a  variety; 
and  when  the  jostling,  jolting,  up  and  down 
process  became  unbearable,  a  change  to  a  mud 
hole  was  quite  soothing. ^^  We  were  not  all  the 
time,  however,  in  so  sad  an  extremity.  We 
sometimes  for  hours  would  ride  through  high 
and  dry  woodlands  where  there  had  been  roads 
surveyed  and  the  under-growth  cleared  out  the 
width  of  a  carriage  road,  and  every  few  rods 
we  would  find  what  they  termed  a  blaze,  which 
was  a  tree  with  the  bark  hacked  off,  and  these 
served  as  guide  boards. 

At  Zanesville  we  found  the  first  comfortable 
stopping  place  after  leaving  Wheeling.  We 
went  from  there  to  Chillicothe,  where  we  found 
a  good  house.  This  place  always  recalls  Mrs. 
Cushman.  She  found  in  the  morning  that  in 
passing  to  her  bedroom  the  night  before  she 
had  come  in  contact  with  fresh  paint,  and  had 
marred  the  appearance  of  her  nice  blue  cloth 
traveling  suit.    She  went  to  the  painter,  showed 

^^A  corduroy  road  was  made  over  wet  or  swampy 
places  by  the  simple  process  of  throwing  down  logs 
at  right  angles  to  the  line  of  travel  to  constitute  a 
roadbed.  Of  course  the  logs  would  be  of  varying 
dimensions  and  would  sink  varying  distances  into  the 
mud  or  swamp,  or  at  times  become  displaced  alto- 
gether, thus  affording  to  those  who  traveled  over 
them  in  wheeled  vehicles  an  ever  constant  element 
of  change  and  surprise. 

37 


91  ^oman'^  ^torp 


him  her  garment,  and  asked  for  some  spirits  of 
turpentine.  The  painter  looked  indifferent, 
and  told  her  he  had  no  turpentine,  whereupon 
she  grew  earnest,  and  asked  him  what  kind  of 
a  painter  he  could  be,  not  to  have  spirits  of 
turpentine,  to  which  he  gave  her  some  rather 
waggish  answer.  She  then  drew  his  attention 
to  the  intrinsic  worth  of  the  garment,  by  tell- 
ing him  she  paid  so  many  dollars  per  yard  in 
Boston,  where  she  had  had  it  made  just  before 
starting  on  her  journey.  Nothing  moved  by 
her  sorrows,  he  kept  at  his  work,  being  very 
respectful,  though  looking  wonderfully  amused. 
Mrs.  Cushman,  finding  she  could  accomplish 
nothing  with  the  painter,  resorted  to  mine  host, 
who,  with  his  wife,  two  or  three  greasy  girls 
from  the  kitchen,  and  all  the  younglings  of  the 
family,  were  open-mouthed,  listening  to  her 
sad  story.  A  happy  thought  at  last  moved  some 
brain  of  the  group  to  go  to  the  druggist's  and 
obtain  the  desired  remedy,  which,  after  much 
ado  and  hard  rubbing,  finally  produced  the 
erasive  effect  desired,  so  that  our  friend  went 
on  her  journey  as  well  satisfied  as  if  nothing 
had  happened. 

Mrs.  Cushman  was  not  a  fault-finding  wom- 
an, and  with  a  few  outbreaks  like  the  one 
named  excepted,  made  a  pleasant  companion, 
and  accommodated  herself  to  the  inconven- 
iences of  such  a  journey  better  than  most  people 
would  have  done.  She  was  a  fine  looking 
woman,  always  neat  and  well  dressed,  and  had 
38 


of  pioneer  ^Pllinoiief 


in  her  young  days  been  called  a  beauty;  was  a 
sister  of  Thomas  Hubbard  of  Hanson,  the  rich 
man  of  the  town;  had  married  Jotham  Cushman 
of  Halifax,  an  educated  and  handsome  man, 
brother  to  Joshua  Cushman  of  Maine.  After 
her  husband's  death  her  house  was  given  up 
and  she  left  minus  house,  home,  and  every 
means  of  support,  and  entirely  dependent  on 
her  brother's  bounty.  Her  only  son,  Joshua, 
had  gone  to  Ohio  to  seek  his  fortune;  had 
married,  and  his  wife  had  died,  leaving  one 
child.  Her  desire  to  be  with  her  son  and  to 
take  charge  of  his  little  daughter  made  her  pre- 
fer the  uncertainty  of  a  new  western  home  to 
the  comfortable  provision  her  brother  had  ex- 
tended to  her  in  his  own  family. 

On  inquiring  for  Williamsburgh,  after  leav- 
ing Chillicothe,  we  could  find  no  one  who  knew 
of  such  a  place.  At  last  a  shrewd  backwoods- 
man where  we  spent  the  night  told  us  it  was 
only  a  "stake  town."  It  had  been  staked  out 
but  they  had  not  made  any  * 'improvements" 
yet;  he  reckoned  they  might  get  up  some 
cabins  in  the  spring.  Did  not  know  any  man 
by  the  name  of  Cushman.  There  were  a  few 
families  settled  in  the  timber,  near  where  the 
town  was  staked  off;  shouldn't  wonder  if  the 
man  might  be  there;  seems  like  he  had  heard 
the  name.  Poor  Mrs.  Cushman!  I  hardly  dared 
look  at  her.  How  could  she  bear  the  change? 
I  felt  sad,  sad  indeed.  Not  so  with  Mrs. 
Cushman;  the  thought  of  being  so  near  her 

39 


^  ^oman'^  ^torp 


only  child  seemed  to  exclude  every  other  feel- 
ing. The  weariness  from  her  long  journey, 
the  racking  from  the  corduroy  roads;  and  even 
the  few  remaining  spots  of  white  lead  that  had 
clung  to  her  blue  skirt,  were  all  forgotten  in 
the  thought  that  in  a  few  hours  she  might 
meet  her  Joshua.  Such  is  a  mother's  love. 
A  father  may  love  his  children  dearly,  tenderly, 
a  husband  a  wife,  a  wife  a  husband,  a  brother 
a  sister,  a  sister  a  brother,  but  none  of  those 
can  comprehend  a  mother's  love. 

It  was  Saturday,  about  noon,  when  we 
arrived  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Jernegan;  the 
Buckeyes  called  him  "Johnnygins. "  The 
family  were  from  Nantucket.  A  sea-faring 
man  had  been  Mr.  Jernegan.  He  had  moved 
to  Ohio,  and  a  pretty  daughter  of  his  had 
married  Mr.  Joshua  Cushman,  a  handsome 
young  Yankee.  We  found  Mr.  Cushman  and 
child  —  a  sweet  little  girl,  about  three  years 
old  —  at  Mr.  Jernegan's.  The  family  were  liv- 
ing in  a  small  brick  building  that  had  been  put 
up  with  the  intention  of  putting  a  large  front  to 
what  they  designed  for  a  kitchen,  but  at  the 
time  of  our  visit  it  served  for  kitchen,  dining- 
room,  and  parlor,  and  two  little  bedrooms 
partitioned  from  the  kitchen  completed  the 
mansion.  Mrs.  Jernegan,  a  plain,  sensible, 
modest  woman,  who,  with  her  daughter,  did 
the  work  of  the  family,  received  Mrs.  Cushman 
politely,  but  seeing  her  looking  at  the  stately 
appearance  of  Mrs.  Cushman,  and  then  at  her 
40 


of  ponecr  S^llinoi^ 


own  accomodations — her  little  bedrooms  and 
plain  kitchen  arrangements  —  I  could  see  and 
understand  the  **Oh,  dear!  what  I  am  to  do?" 
although  unuttered.  We  were,  however,  re- 
lieved when  Joshua  pointed  out  a  small  brick 
building  which  he  said  he  could  make  ready 
and  go  to  housekeeping  in  a  short  time.  We 
made  the  best  possible  time  after  leaving  Mrs. 
Cushman  on  Saturday,  for  Cincinnati,  where 
we  arrived  Sunday  morning  in  time  for  church, 
but  in  no  plight  for  church-going.  We  stopped 
at  a  house  kept  by  a  Mr.  Fox. 

I  forgot  to  mention  a  night  we  spent  between 
Wheeling  and  Cincinnati  with  a  Bostonian. 
We  were  told  through  the  day,  when,  as  was 
our  custom,  we  inquired  for  a  stopping-place 
for  the  next  night,  that  there  was  no  tavern  on 
the  road,  but  that  by  turning  a  little  off  the 
"big  road,"  we  would  find  "a  Yankee  man 
that  had  settled  in,  and  had  made  a  clearing, 
and  sometimes  kept  public."  We  reached  the 
cabin  about  sunset  and  found  a  little  man  who, 
with  his  big  wife,  decided  that  we  could  stay. 
The  little  man  seemed  to  be  a  Massachusetts 
Yankee,  out-and-out,  but  his  bigger  half  I 
could  not  understand  her.  She  did  not  seem 
to  work,  or  to  know  how;  did  not  look  too 
good  to  work,  or  to  know  enough  to  be  a  lady. 
Another  woman  seemed  to  be  housekeeper  and 
cook.  The  little  man  had  a  neighbor  with  him 
helping  him  to  kill  sheep.  We  made  no  pro- 
test against  the  slaughter,  for  one  of  the  most 
41 


91  Woman'^  ^torp 


urgent  demands  of  our  nature  was  in  full 
force,  we  having  eaten  nothing  since  breakfast, 
and  the  savory  odors  made  us  almost  rebel- 
lious at  the  tardiness  of  the  cook,  but  the  whiskey 
bottle  with  which  our  host  and  his  neighbor 
were  exhilarating  themselves  did  not  suit  me. 
They  prepared  a  mug  of  whiskey  toddy  for  Mrs. 
Cushman  and  myself,  but  both  said  "No; 
thank  you;"  hostess  didn't  thank,  but  said 
'  *  Yes. ' '  After  supper,  on  a  bureau  which  stood 
in  the  room,  I  found  a  number  of  Massachusetts 
papers  and  a  file  of  the  Boston  Recorder. 
While  I  was  trying  to  reconcile  the  paper  with 
the  whiskey,  the  little  man  handed  me  a  late 
number  of  the  Recorder ,  saying  that  his  son 
was  the  editor,  and  sent  him  the  paper  every 
week.  I  said,  "Nathaniel  Willis  edits  the  Re- 
corder.'' He  said,  "Yes,  Nat.;  I  gave  Nat. 
my  trade;  I  was  a  printer.  Nat.  has  got  along 
pretty  well;  Nat.  is  the  editor  now."  "Then 
you  are  the  father  of  Nathaniel  Willis.?" 
"Yes;  I  worked  at  printing  until  I  got  tired, 
and  thought  I  would  give  it  up  to  Nat.  and 
come  west  and  try  farming:  pretty  rough  yet; 
but  I  got  tired  of  the  printing  office. "^^ 

^2  Nathaniel  Willis,  born  in  1780  and  died  in  1870, 
was  a  prominent  New  England  editor  of  his  (jay.  In 
1803  he  established  the  Portland  Eastern  Argus;  in 
1816  he  founded  the  Boston  Recorder,  one  of  the 
earliest  religious  newspapers  in  the  world.  In  1827 
he  founded  the  Youth's  Companion,  v^hxch  is  said  to 
have  been  the  first  children's  paper  ever  published. 
The  father,  whom  the  Tillsons  encountered  in  Ohio, 

42 


of  ^ionttt  S^Ilinoi^ 


Some  twelve  or  fifteen  years  afterward  I  met 
N.  P.  Willis  at  the  American  Hotel  in  New 
York.  He  had  just  returned  from  Europe 
with  his  English  wife,  and  they  were  showing 
off,  to  the  amusement  of  other  guests  of  the 
house.  I  thought  then  how  much  easier  his 
grand-dad  might  have  dropped  on  his  knee 
and  laced  the  shoes  of  his  big  half  than  could 
N.  P.  with  his  tight  unmentionables  all  strapped 
down;  to  accomplish  which  gallant  act  grace- 
fully under  the  circumstances,  required  some 
skill.  In  after  years  I  became  acquainted  with 
Richard  Willis,  who  told  me  that  the  wife  I  saw 
was  not  his  grandmother,  but  that  she  was  a 
Virginian,  and  I  then  comprehended  her — 
evidently  ''poor  white  folks."  When  the  fas- 
tidious N.  P.  Willis  went  through  the  West, 
and  was  shocked  at  the  rudeness  of  Quincy 
and  the  Quincy  House,  I  again  thought  of  the 
old  grand-dad.  Fanny  Fern,  had  she  known 
of  it,  might  have  written  a  book  about  "The 
days  of  my  grand-dad;  the  jolliest  man  that 
ever  broke  bread." 

At  Cincinnati  a  serious  question  arose ;  the 
possibility  of  getting  through  Indiana  with  a 
carriage  seemed  doubtful.  There  had  been  a 
continuous  rain  during  our  travel  through  Ohio, 

had  been  editor  and  proprietor  successively  of  several 
papers  before  coming  west.  N.  P.  Willis,  son  of  the 
founder  of  Youth's  Cotnpanion,  was  a  well-known  poet 
and  literary  worker  of  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century. 

43 


a  Woman'^  ^torp 


and  the  river,  which  at  Wheeling  appeared  so 
insignificant,  had  expanded  itself  into  magnifi- 
cence at  Cincinnati,  and  when  they  talked 
about  the  streams  in  Indiana  not  being  fordable 
in  consequence  of  the  late  rains  I,  for  the  first 
time,  received  the  idea  as  a  reality  that  there 
was  such  a  thing  as  an  inhabited  country  with- 
out bridges — -my  education  was  just  beginning. 
After  much  talking  and  due  deliberation  it  was 
decided  that  we  should  put  our  carriage  and  all 
our  baggage  on  board  a  little  steamboat  bound 
for  Louisville ;  that  your  father  and  myself  were 
to  go  on  board  as  passengers  while  your  Uncle 
Robert  was  to  proceed  on  horseback,  riding 
one  horse  and  leading  the  other,  as  it  was 
possible  for  a  horseman  to  head  the  creeks  and 
pass  where  there  was  no  carriage  road.  It 
was  my  first  steamboat  experience,  and  I  had 
at  least  a  quiet  time,  I  being  the  only  lady 
passenger.  The  little  boat  was  new  and  clean; 
a  small  cabin  separated  from  the  main  cabin 
and  containing  four  berths  were  the  accomo- 
dations intended  for  lady  passengers,  and  we 
had  this  to  ourselves.  We  were  on  the  boat 
several  days.  After  a  day  or  two  a  gentleman 
came  in  and  commenced  an  acquaintance  with 
us,  introducing  himself  as  Mr.  Dent,  from 
Missouri.  He  said  he  had  wanted  to  say  to  me 
that  there  would  be  no  impropriety  or  discom- 
fort in  my  occupying  a  seat  by  the  stove  in  the 
gentleman's  cabin;  that  as  the  ladies'  cabin  had 
been  painted  while  at  Cincinnati,  it  was  unsafe 

44 


of  pioneer  S^IIinoi^ 


to  remain  in  it;  and  suggested  our  keeping  it 
open  and  exposed  to  the  air  through  the  day. 
He  said  that  his  father  came  to  his  death  in 
consequence  of  occupying  a  newly  painted 
apartment.  It  was  a  very  kind  suggestion  and 
I  have  always  remembered  it,  and  when  his 
daughter  married  Ulysses,  and  Ulysses  became 
our  President,  and  when  I  hear  Mrs.  Grant 
spoken  of  with  respect,  I  always  feel  well 
pleased,  and  remember  the  benevolence  that 
characterized  her  father. 

When  we  arrived  at  Louisville  I  was  kindly 
received  by  two  families  of  your  father's 
cousins.  Mr.  Joseph  Danforth  and  Mr.  Ed- 
mund Lewis  had  both,  with  their  families,  re- 
sided there  four  or  five  years,  and  were  part- 
ners in  the  drygoods  business.  Mr.  Danforth 
had  a  family  of  four  children,  Mr.  Lewis,  a  son. 
The  year  following  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Danforth  lost 
two  of  their  daughters,  leaving  them  Joseph 
and  Julia,  who  are  still  living.  Mrs,  Danforth 
and  Mr.  Lewis  were  own  cousins  to  your  father. 
At  Louisville  we  found  our  prospects  no  better 
in  regard  to  getting  through  the  country  in  a 
carriage,  and  after  staying  there  several  days 
—  as  a  boat  was  about  to  leave  for  New  Orleans, 
probably  the  last  one  for  several  weeks  —  we  de- 
cided to  take  passage  for  Shawneetown.  Your 
Uncle  Robert  had  not  arrived  with  the  horses, 
and  as  he  was  inexperienced  in  travel  we  felt 
much  solicitude  on  his  account,  but  it  seemed 
our  only  alternative. 

45 


31  ^oman'^ef  ^torp 


We  landed  at  Shawneetown  early  Monday 
morning;  had  expected  to  arrive  there  the 
Saturday  previous.  We  had  a  poor  apology 
for  a  boat,  and  accomodations  were  only  known 
by  name.  Captain  Dent,  who  was  also  a  pas- 
senger, decided  to  keep  by  the  boat  in  hopes  of 
finding  a  New  Orleans  boat  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Ohio  that  would  take  him  to  St.  Louis. 
He  said  a  great  deal  to  us  about  the  presump- 
tion of  trying  to  cross  Illinois  by  carriage,  and 
thought  we  had  better  even  go  to  New  Orleans 
if  we  failed  to  meet  a  boat  at  Cairo,  but  your 
father  seemed  very  hopeful,  and  besides  we 
both  felt  as  if  we  could  go  no  farther  until  we 
had  heard  from  Robert,  from  whom  we  had 
parted  at  Cincinnati,  and  had  heard  nothing 
for  nearly  two  weeks.  Mr.  Dent  in  parting 
gave  me  a  fatherly  grip  of  the  hand,  with  an 
assurance  that  he  should  feel  interested  in 
knowing  that  I  was  safely  through  all  the  bogs 
and  bayous  and  corduroys  that  I  might  en- 
counter. The  swimming  creeks  and  miry 
bottoms  were  all  Greek  to  me,  and  his  look  so 
mysterious  that  I  did  not  understand.  I  was 
able  to  interpret  it  before  the  end  of  my  journey. 

We  walked  from  the  boat  landing  to  the 
hotel,  a  short  distance,  but  it  was  raining  hard 
and  the  mud  was  deep  and  adhesive,  and  I 
reached  the  house  very  much  fatigued.  It 
was  before  breakfast,  and  after  getting  me  to 
the  bar-room  fire  —  the  only  one  that  never 
went  out  in  the  house — your  father  went  to 
46 


of  pioneer  S^Hinoij^ 


look  after  the  "plunder,"  a  western  term  for 
baggage.  When  he  returned  he^  thought  I  had 
better  take  some  whiskey  to  ward  off  the  effects 
of  the  morning's  exposure.  It  was  the  first 
time  I  had  ever  tasted  it  and  though  always  an 
impalatable  beverage  to  me,  I  shall  never  for- 
get how  disgusted  and  outraged  I  was  by  that 
first  taste  at  Shawneetown.^^  Our  hotel  —  the 
only  brick  house  in  the  place  —  made  quite 
a  commanding  appearance  from  the  river, 
towering,  as  it  did,  among  the  twenty  —  more 
or  less  —  log  cabins  and  the  three  or  four  box- 
looking  frames.  One  or  two  of  these  were 
occupied  as  stores,  one  was  a  doctor's  office; 
a  lawyer's  shingle  graced  the  corner  of  one, 
cakes  and  beer  another. 

The  hotel  lost  its  significance,  however,  on 
entering  its  doors.  The  finish  was  of  the 
cheapest  kind,  the  plastering  hanging  loose 
from  the  walls,  the  floors  carpetless,  except 
with  nature's  carpeting;  with  that  they  were 
richly  carpeted.  The  landlord  —  a  poor  white 
man  from  the  South  —  was  a  whiskey  keg  in  the 
morning,  and  a  keg  of  whiskey  at  night;  stupid 
and  gruff  in  the  morning,  by  noon  could  talk 
politics  and  abuse  the  Yankees,  and  by  sundown 
was  brave  for  a  fight.  His  wife  kept  herself 
in  the  kitchen;    his  daughters  —  one  married 

^2  Shawneetown  was  at  this  time  one  of  the  two 
principal  towns  of  Illinois,  the  other  being  Kaskaskia ; 
the  former  was  the  land  office  for  southeastern  Illi- 
nois and  the  principal  center  for  its  travel  and  traffic. 

47 


^  Woman'^  J^torp 


and  two  single  —  performed  the  agreeable  to 
strangers;  the  son-in-law,  putting  on  the  airs 
of  a  gentleman,  presided  at  the  table,  carving 
the  pork,  dishing  out  the  cabbage,  and  talking 
big  about  his  political  friends.  His  wife  — 
being  his  wife  —  he  seemed  to  regard  as  a 
notch  above  the  other  branches  of  the  family, 
and  had  her  at  his  right  hand  at  the  table,  where 
she  sat  with  her  long  curls,  and  with  her  baby 
in  her  lap.  Baby  always  seemed  to  be  hungry 
while  mammy  was  eating  her  dinner,  and  so 
"little  honey"  took  dinner  at  the  same  time. 
Baby  didn't  have  any  table-cloth  —  new  man- 
ners to  me.  Your  father's  caution  was  always 
at  hand,  to  try  not  to  give  them  the  impression 
that  I  was  proud,  with  an  allusion  to  the  preju- 
dice felt  by  this  class  of  people  toward  the 
Yankees.  We  had  a  room  fronting  the  street 
and  could  see  everyone  that  came  to  the  ferry, 
which  was  directly  opposite  the 'house,  and  my 
occupation  from  Monday  until  Friday  was 
watching  for  Robert  and  the  horses.  We  not 
only  were  in  great  haste  to  get  away  from  such 
a  disagreeable  place,  but  were  anxious  for  the 
safety  of  Robert,  who  had  never  before  been 
left  to  do  for  himself.  Indeed,  we  were  all 
inexperienced  and  untried. 

I  can  now  recall  the  joy  I  felt  when  late  in 
the  afternoon  on  Friday,  your  father  and  Uncle 
Robert  presented  themselves  before  the  hotel. 
Your  father  had  crossed  the  ferry  several  times 
each  day,  hoping  to  meet  the  long-looked- for; 
48 


of  pioneer  ^Filinoi^ 


it  availed  nothing,  but  for  the  want  of  some- 
thing else  to  do,  and  to  quiet  his  anxiety,  he 
kept  on  the  move.  Robert  had  sold  one  of  the 
horses,  finding  it  tiresome  and  difficult  to  lead 
one  while  he  rode  another,  but  had  retained  the 
best  horse,  "Charley."  The  first  thing  to  be 
done  was  to  buy  a  horse.  Our  landlord  was 
quite  at  his  ease  as  a  horse-jockey,  and  early 
the  next  morning  there  appeared  an  array  of 
men  with  their  horses,  each  hoping  to  get  a 
good  bargain  out  of  the  green  Yankees.  After 
a  few  hours  bantering  it  was  decided  that  we 
were  to  have  a  little  black  pony,  strangely  con- 
trasting with  the  noble  bearing  of  our  *  'Charley" 
horse. 

Our  landlord  was  very  officious  through  it 
all,  and  finally  closed  up  his  morning's  task  by 
having  a  fight  with  one  of  the  countrymen.  I 
was  at  the  open  window  and  witnessed  the 
whole  disgraceful  outbreak.  I  had  often  before 
heard  of  the  western  gouging  and  fighting,  but 
never  before  saw  a  fight,  and  hope  I  never  may 
again.  I  can  now  see  the  landlord,  thin,  tall, 
and  erect,  with  his  gray  locks  floating  in  the 
air,  using  the  most  unheard  of  profanity, 
"clinched,"  as  they  termed  it,  with  a  fat, 
squatty-looking  beast  of  a  being,  each  aiming 
at  the  other's  eyes,  and  each  showing  that 
their  dodging  powers  had  been  well  trained. 
The  desire  of  an  ignorant  westerner  to  stand 
up  for  his  "rights,"  as  he  called  them,  was  the 
predominant  feeling  of  his  nature,  and  when 

49 


a  ^oman'^  ^totp 


these  rights  were  encroached  upon  he  knew  no 
other  redress  than  by  strength  of  muscle;  so 
when  the  countryman  called  the  landlord  "a 
pint-blank,  mean  liar, "  because  he  had  not  sold 
his  horse  to  the  Yankee,  it  was  exasperating, 
but  when  the  countryman  saw  your  father 
counting  out  the  bright  ''shiners"  to  one  of  his 
neighbors  —  the  former  owner  of  our  pony  — 
his  wrath  knew  no  bounds.  He  abused  Hilton, 
who  would  not  take  abuse,  hence  the  fight. 
Some  half  dozen  of  the  lookers-on  separated 
them,  and  old  Hilton,  after  mopping  his  face 
with  his  shirt-sleeve,  went  into  the  house. 

We  then  busied  ourselves  in  getting  ready  to 
start  as  soon  as  possible,  and  I  went  to  dinner 
light-hearted  at  the  thought  of  its  being  the  last 
meal  at  that  place.  Old  Boniface  didn't  appear 
at  dinner,  and  after  going  through  the  form  I 
went  to  my  room  to  put  on  my  outer  gear  for 
the  journey.  I  was  standing  with  my  back 
towards  the  door  when  I  heard  a  voice  behind 
me,  and,  looking  around,  there  stood  Hilton, 
with  his  face  covered  with  plasters.  It  was 
always  my  weakness  to  scream  when  suddenly 
startled,  so  I  perpetrated  one  of  the  most  un- 
earthly yells — which  your  father  had  not  yet 
become  acquainted  with.  He  was  coming  to 
the  room,  and  was  near  the  door  when  the  ex- 
plosion took  place.  I  do  not  know  which  one 
of  the  two  was  most  puzzled  to  know  what 
ailed  me.  As  the  landlord  had  only  come  to 
the  room  for  the  trunks,  and  we  were  hurrying 
50 


of  ^imtct  S^llinox^ 


to  get  away,  not  much  explanation  was  neces- 
sary. 

It  was  not  in  accordance  with  my  ideas  to 
start  on  a  journey  on  Saturday  afternoon,  but 
the  thing  had  been  talked  over  and  the  chances 
for  Sabbath  observance  seemed  less  here  than 
to  launch  out  into  one  of  the  broad  prairies. 
We  thought  perhaps  we  might  come  to  some 
more  congenial  place;  at  least  we  should  be 
relieved  from  the  drunkenness  and  profanity 
for  which  Shawneetown  was  at  that  time  noted; 
so  about  two  o'clock  we  rode  out  of  Shawnee- 
town. 

Before  leaving,  your  father  met  a  Mr. 
McClintock,  who  gave  him  a  way-bill  of  the 
country  through  which  we  were  to  pass,  with 
the  names  of  the  best  places  for  meals  and 
lodging.  Mr.  McClintock  was  a  government 
surveyor,  and  had  been  all  over  the  country, 
and  we  found  it  a  great  assistance  to  have  his 
directions.  The  first  place  found  on  our  bill 
was  Brice  Hanna's,  where  we  could  find  good 
accomodations  for  man  and  beast.  I  well  re- 
member the  joyous  freedom  we  realized  after 
leaving  Shawneetown.  All  were  relieved  from 
the  anxiety  caused  by  our  separation,  and  were 
again  at  liberty  to  pursue  our  journey,  and  as 
it  was  my  first  introduction  to  the  State  which 
was  to  be  my  home  I  tried  to  make  the  dismal- 
looking  bottom  prairie  through  which  we  were 
passing  look  cheerful  and  homelike,  merely 
because  it  was  Illinois.  Your  father  suggested 
51 


31  ^pman^^  ^torp 


that  we  should  not  make  up  our  minds  yet  as 
to  the  beauty  of  a  western  prairie  from  what 
we  saw  of  the  "bottom  lands/'  and  as  I  could 
not  succeed  in  finding  anything  to  admire  in 
the  prospect  around,  I  was  willing  to  let  the 
future  take  care  of  itself,  and  for  variety  started 
a  song.  The  gentlemen  were  both  singers, 
and  I,  putting  in  what  power  I  possessed,  we 
made  the  woods  and  prairies  resound. 

After  riding  about  two  hours  we  came  to  a 
horrible  corduroy,  and  were  relieved  when  that 
came  to  an  end  and  we  found  ourselves  at  a 
running  brook,  where  we  stopped  to  give  our 
horses  water.  After  giving  them  due  time  to 
slake  their  thirst,  and  the  signal  was  given  them 
to  move  on,  we  found  them  a  fixture,  and  all 
the  coaxing  and  whipping  that  was  alternately 
administered  had  no  effect  to  produce  a  forward 
movement.  As  "Charley"  had  always  been  so 
rehable,  never  having  departed  from  his  lofty 
bearing,  the  conclusion  was  that  the  new  horse 
must  be  at  fault,  consequently  a  sound  whipping 
was  administered  upon  the  poor  darkey,  who 
by  plunging  and  trying  to  leap  forward  showed, 
his  willingness  to  obey.  It  then  became  evi- 
dent that  the  trouble  was  with  "Charley," 
who,  when  he  was  whipped,  only  floundered 
about  in  the  water,  and  then  settled  himself 
down  again.  Your  father  looked  perplexed 
and  troubled,  and  on  closer  examination  dis- 
covered the  stump  of  an  old  tree  at  the  bottom 
of  the  water  which  he  thought  might  be  the 
52 


of  poneer  3^IUnoii0f 


cause  of  the  difficulty.  There  being  but  one 
way  to  get  out  of  it,  he  commenced  another 
lashing  of  poor  ''Charley."  I  felt  like  crying 
and  I  am  not  sure  but  that  I  gave  myself  up  to 
that  indulgence.  Your  father  seemed  to  feel 
every  lash  that  he  administered  to  his  poor 
victim,  who,  finally,  with  one  desperate  leap 
freed  himself  from  his  anchorage,  and  it  was 
found  that  one  of  his  feet  had  been  caught  be- 
tween two  prongs  of  the  stump,  thereby  holding 
him  fast.  Joy  came  to  us  all  when  we  found 
that  although  "Charley"  came  out  with  a  ragged 
hoof  aijd  looking  decidedly  used  up,  he  was 
able  to  walk  and  to  take  us  on  our  journey. 
Your  father  had  made  up  his  mind  —  so  he 
told  us  afterwards  —  that  one  of  his  legs  was 
broken,  and  that  he  should  be  obliged  to  kill 
him,  and  leave  poor  "Charley"  by  the  wayside, 
which  would  have  been  a  most  grievous  thing 
to  him.  He  had  purchased  him  before  going 
east  with  Mr.  Collins  in  the  spring;  had  rode 
from  Illinois  to  Massachusetts  on  horseback, 
and  then  had  driven  him  back  to  Illinois ;  and 
he  was  such  a  rare  specimen  of  all  that  was 
reliable  and  elegant  his  loss  would  have  been 
to  us  irreparable. 

After  the  excitement  was  over — the  carriage 
having  been  disengaged  from  the  horses  and 
drawn  back  on  the  corduroy  —  finding  it  would 
be  some  time  before  all  could  be  in  readiness 
to  move  again,  I  discovered  myself  not  in  high 
heart;  that  my  enthusiasm  for  western  prairies 
53 


a  ^omau^^  ^torp 


was  vanishing;  that  I  was  approaching  the  ex- 
treme of  what  Captain  Artus  afterwards  called 
"gaudiloupiness."  So  I  concluded  as  my  only 
resource  to  start  off  on  a  brisk  walk,  expecting 
the  carriage  would  soon  overtake  me,  but  after 
losing  sight  of  my  companions,  and  looking 
about  into  the  swampy  surroundings,  things 
looked  dubious  and  the  dismals  were  getting  a 
good  hold  of  my  feelings  when  I  heard  a  most 
unearthly  yell  coming  through  the  forest,  and 
the  vivid  recollection  of  a  panther  story  I  had 
heard  not  long  before  coming  to  my  help,  I 
turned  back  and  with  a  quicker  step  than  I 
could  take  now  hastened  towards  the  carriage, 
not  knowing  whether  I  was  going  from  or  ap- 
proaching the  dreaded  foe.  I  had  heard  that 
their  manner  of  attack  was  to  perch  themselves 
on  the  branch  of  a  tree,  and  when  within  reach- 
ing distance  pounce  upon  their  prey.  Every 
rustling  of  the  branches  assured  me  that  a  pan- 
ther was  on  the  watch  for  rne  with  a  hungry 
appetite. 

At  last  I  reached  the  brook,  where  a  new 
difficulty  was  presenting  itself.  The  horses 
had  become  so  thoroughly  frightened  that  no 
urging  or  driving  could  get  them  near  enough 
to  hitch  to  the  carriage,  and  while  trying  to  in- 
vent some  way  to  draw  it  over  two  teamsters 
came  along,  each  having  a  large  Pennsylvania 
wagon  drawn  by  four  horses.  One  of  the  for- 
ward horses  —  which  they  called  the  leader  — 
had  a  saddle  on,  on  which  sat  the  owner  of  the 
54 


of  pioneer  S^Hinoi^ 


team,  one  of  the  men  looking  as  lordly  as  if  he 
was  leading  an  army  to  battle.  Your  father 
asked  them  if  they  would  take  off  their  forward 
horses  and  draw  out  the  carriage.  The  man 
nearest — the  lordly  looking  one  —  said  he 
would  do  it  for  a  *'dorller."  Your  father  not 
pretending  to  hear  him,  went  on  trying  his  own 
horses.  The  man  again  called  out :  ''Stranger, 
I  say,  I'll  do  it  for  a  dorller."  Your  father 
told  him  he  was  in  difficulty  and  would  be  much 
obliged  to  anyone  who  would  help  him.  The 
wagoner  looked  sulky,  and  the  man  in  the  rear 
wagon  called  out :  "See  here,  Brice,  you  move 
along;  it  isn't  me  that  leaves  a  stranger  in  a 
fix  like  this;"  so  the  "dollar"  man  moved  on 
and  the  other  drove  up,  unhitched  his  horses, 
and  putting  them  to  our  carriage  drew  it  out  of 
the  water.  The  whole  performance  did  not 
occupy  ten  minutes.  When  the  man  was  on 
his  horse  again  and  ready  for  a  start,  your 
father  bestowed  many  thanks  on  him,  and  we 
were  soon  on  our  way.  We  soon  overtook  the 
teams  and  inquired  how  far  it  was  to  Brice 
Hanna's,  and  were  answered  by  the  man  who 
had  helped  us.  We  also  asked  if  it  was  a 
good  place  to  stop .  Imagine  our  surprise  when 
he  pointed  to  the  other  man  and  said,  "That  is 
Brice  Hanna."     Brice  pretended  not  to  hear. 


Old  rheumatism  took  me  by  the  hand  a  few 
weeks  ago,    and  has  held  his  grip   so  tightly 
55 


a  ^oman'^  J^torp 


that  I  thought  my  penciHngs  were  at  an  end; 
but,  having  a  release  from  my  bondage,  and 
feehng  quite  lonely,  I  have  concluded  to  resume 
my  recollections  of  western  life.  In  recording 
reminiscences  of  the  past  I  have  tried  to  give 
a  truthful  description  of  events  as  they  oc- 
curred forty-eight  years  ago.  I  probably  have 
forgotten  many  things  that  were,  at  the  time 
of  their  occurrence,  interesting  to  me.  I  re- 
gret that  I  have  not  the  power  within  me  to 
give  a  more  high-toned  record,  but  as  that 
gift  is  not,  and  the  subject  not  a  soul-inspiring 
one,  I  must  be  content  to  suit  my  story  to  the 
log  cabin  surroundings,  which  are  not  wont  to 
elevate. 

Mr.  Hardy,  a  Presbyterian  minister,  who 
used  to  have  his  home  with  us  when  in  our 
vicinity,  said  that  on  his  first  going  west, 
when  he  attempted  to  write  he  would  find 
himself  falling  into  log  cabin  dialect,  and  log 
cabin  notions  of  things,  and  that  he  used  to 
get  a  volume  of  Burns'  poems  —  of  which 
he  was  fond — and  read,  and  then  look  at 
the  log  walls  of  the  cabin,  then  read  again, 
and  look  at  his  puncheon  floor,  and  try  to  look 
at  them  with  a  mind  elevated  by  the  inspiration 
of  reading,  and  he  felt  he  had  accomplished 
quite  an  improved  standard.  But  no  such 
experiment  came  to  my  help.  The  indescrib- 
able care  devolving  upon  a  housekeeper  in 
that  new  and  rough  country  and  the  ways  and 
means  to  which  one  must  resort  in  order  to 
56 


of  pioneer  3^IitnoiiB^ 


keep  up  a  comfortable  establishment  absorbed 
not  only  the  physical  strength  of  a  Yankee 
housewife,  but  all  the  faculties  of  the  mind 
had  to  be  brought  into  requisition  in  order  to 
secure  a  comfortable  living. 

I  believe  when  I  left  off  writing  we  were  on 
our  way  to  our  night's  station,  and  had  been 
introduced  to  our  host.  I  so  vividly  remember 
the  events  of  that  night  that  I  will  try  to  give 
you  some  idea  of  it.  Brice  Hanna  was  a  tall, 
well-formed  man  with  good  features,  and  but 
for  his  surly  expression  might  have  been  called 
handsome.  When  we  arrived  at  his  house  he 
dismounted,  came  up  to  the  carriage,  and  told 
us  there  was  another  house  on  the  other  side  of 
the  swamp  where  we  could  stay;  that  he  had 
been  from  home  all  the  week;  that  his  wife  was 
sick,  and  that  we  could  not  be  accommodated 
anyhow.  Your  father  told  him  that  it  was 
nearly  sunset,  and  that  he  should  not  attempt 
to  go  through  a  five-mile  swamp  until  he 
could  do  it  by  daylight,  so  we  unpacked  our- 
selves and  moved  towards  the  house,  and  with 
much  fear  and  trembling  I  set  my  foot  on 
the  threshold  of  Brice  Hanna's  cabin.  There 
was  but  one  room  in  the  main  cabin,  which  I 
at  once  perceived  was  unusually  clean  for  an 
establishment  of  that  kind.  There  were  two 
beds  nicely  made,  with  clean  pillows  and  hand- 
some bed-quilts,  the  floor  clean,  and  the  coarse 
chairs  looking  as  if  they  had  just  been  scrubbed. 
In  a  large,  open  fire-place  was  a  cheerful  fire 
57 


^  Woman'$  ^torp 


of  oak  logs,  which  were  supported  by  one  old 
iron  andiron  and  a  stone  on  the  other  side.  But 
what  most  puzzled  me  was  a  pretty  woman  — 
who  did  not  seem  to  be  more  than  twenty — 
sitting  with  her  feet  on  a  chair,  and  with 
pillows  around  her,  and  holding  her  infant  in 
her  lap.  Her  skin  was  very  fair,  and  she  had 
an  abundance  of  jet  black,  curly  hair,  and 
bright,  black  eyes.  She  had  on  a  pretty  pink 
calico  dress,  which  with  her  baby's  gear  had 
the  appearance  of  thorough  cleanliness.  She 
looked  a  little  annoyed  when  we  first  went  in, 
but  politely  asked  us  to  be  seated,  and  by  her 
manner  we  concluded  that  she  was  mistress  of 
the  mansion. 

Brice  had  not  made  his  appearance,  but  he 
finally  came  in  bringing  a  stone,  which  he  threw 
down  with  an  oath,  saying  he  had  had  his  eye 
on  that  rock  for  some  time,  and  thought  it 
would  be  a  match  for  the  one  in  the  fire-place. 
He  commenced  pulling  out  the  andiron,  swear- 
ing at  the  fire  for  being  too  hot.  His  wife 
looked  on  tremblingly,  and  asked  why  he  was 
not  willing  to  have  the  andiron  remain,  as  it 
was  "a  heap  handier  than  the  stone."  With 
another  string  of  oaths  he  jerked  out  the  poor 
andiron,  and  taking  it  to  the  door  he  threw  it 
as  far  as  he  could  into  the  yard.  Such  things 
might  do  for  the  broadcloth  gentry,  but  he  did 
not  belong  to  the  gentry;  at  the  same  time 
giving  one  of  his  menacing  glances  at  us.  He 
went  out,  but  returned  in  a  few  minutes  to  say 
58 


of  pioneer  ^Fllinoi^ 


to  his  wife  that  the  woman  she  had  there  — 
who,  with  her  husband  and  boy,  occupied  a 
little  cabin  in  the  yard — ''should  not  stay  in 
his  diggings  another  night,"  and  with  another 
oath  said,  "clare  them  out. "  "Well,  what  is 
the  matter?"  asked  the  trembhng  wife.  "Mat- 
ter !  why  the  cursed ' '  a  list  of  epithets  too 

fearful  to  repeat;  '  'infernal  fool  has  let  the  hogs 
and  cows  get  into  my  corn-field  and  destroy 
more  corn  and  potatoes  than  thar  eternally 
cursed  necks  are  worth;  so  I'll  clare  them 
out,"  finishing  off  his  sentence  with  another 
string  of  oaths  not  to  be  outdone  by  Sancho 
Panza's  proverbs. 

The  poor  wife  would  shrink  down  when  the 
blast  was  heaviest,  but  after  he  had  gone  would 
brighten  up  again.  When  one  of  the  storms  had 
subsided  and  he  had  gone  out  to  anathematize 
the  man  and  boy  with  curses  loud  and  heavy, 
I  ventured  to  ask  her  how  long  she  had  been  a 
cripple.  She  said  only  a  few  months ;  that  just 
before  her  baby  was  born  she  fell  into  the  well 
and  broke  some  of  her  bones,  and  was  so  hurt 
all  over  that  she  had  not  been  able  to  walk  since, 
and  if  it  had  bfeen  God's  will  she  should  have 
wished  never  to  have  come  out  alive.  She  was 
ignorant,  but  pretty,  and  with  a  sweet  expres- 
sion ;  so  much  truthfulness  was  manifested  in 
all  she  said  that  my  heart  went  out  to  her  with 
a  compassion  that  I  cannot  express. 

After  awhile  the  fiend  again  made  his  ap- 
pearance with  a  large  slice  of  bacon  and  corn 
59 


a  l^oman'^  ^torp 


bread  in  his  hand,  and  with  his  foot  he  kicked 
along  a  chair  until  he  reached  his  wife,  and 
seating  himself  by  her  side  he  took  out  a  long 
bowie  knife  and  commenced  eating.  Looking 
at  her  with  something  of  a  subdued  tone,  he 
said:  ''This  is  the  first  corn  bread  and  bacon 
I  have  tasted  since  I  went  from  here."  "Too 
bad,"  she  remarked,  pleasantly;  "and  what  did 
you  eat  all  the  week.? "  ''Why,  you  see,  I  was 
hauling  for  Marshall;  Marshall  is  building  a 
big  house;  and  I  have  been  hauling  brick  and 
timber.  When  1  gits  to  the  house  Marshall 
will  call  to  that  infernal  old  black  cook  of  his'n 

to  get  my  supper,  and  the "  usual  list  of 

expletives,  "fool  goes  and  makes  me  some 
coffee  as  black  as  her  derned  old  face,  and 
some  of  them  'are  cussed  light  Yankee  biscuits, 
and  some  beef  that  was  just  warmed  through 
as  the  old  bull  was  when  he  was  running  alive 
and  bellering,  and  when  you  put  your  knife 
inter  hit  by  thunder  the  blood  would  run. 
Haven't  had  a  bite  of  pone,  or  corn-dodger,  or 
hog  meat,  not  any  since  last  Monday  morning." 
"Too  bad;  didn't  they  give  you  any  milk.?  " 
"Jest  so;  axed  for  milk,  and  the  old  black 
devil  brought  me  some  jest  from  the  cow; 
haven't  seen  a  sip  of  buttermilk  or  clabber." 
"Too  bad."  She  looked  pleased  that  he  had 
become  sufficiently  subdued  to  bear  soothing. 
We  had  previously  called  for  supper,  and 
were  summoned  into  the  cabin  in  the  yard, 
which  was  used  for  a  kitchen  and  dining-room. 
60 


of  pioneer  ^Fllinoi^ 


The  woman  of  all  work — the  wife  of  the  man 
who  didn't  keep  the  hogs  out  of  the  corn- 
field— was  standing  at  a  side  table  where  we 
were  to  be  seated  for  our  evening  repast.  I 
have  forgotten  what  we  had  for  food,  but  re- 
member the  cleanliness  of  the  rough  furnishing, 
and  that  a  saucer  standing  on  the  table,  filled 
with  lard,  with  a  strip  of  white  cloth  laid  in  it 
and  one  end  raised  up  at  the  side  of  the  saucer, 
burning,  served  to  light  the  table  and  the  whole 
room.  We  went  back  from  our  supper  to 
where  the  happy  pair  were  still  seated,  he 
looking  as  if  he  had  blown  another  blast  and 
had  settled  down  to  sulk,  and  the  wife  trying 
to  look  happy,  and  smiling  through  her  tears. 
He  sat  awhile  as  if  trying  to  think  of  something 
disagreeable  to  say  or  do.  All  at  once  a  happy 
thought  seemed  to  occur  to  him,  and  looking 
at  us  with  malicious  satisfaction  he  commenced 
a  furious  rubbing  and  scratching,  pushing  up 
his  sleeves  and  looking  at  his  wrists.  He 
turned  suddenly  around  and  asked  us  if  we  had 
any  beds  of  our  own  to  stretch  on  for  the 
night.  He  had  seen  all  we  took  from  the 
carriage,  and  knew  that  we  had  no  beds  along, 
and  looked  satanically  happy  when  he  an- 
nounced that  we  would  all  get  the  itch,  as  all 
in  the  house  had  it,  and  swore  that  the  cursed 
old  fellow  who  couldn't  keep  the  cows  out  of 
the  corn-field  had  brought  the  itch  to  them. 
Such  startling  information  would  have  been 
fearful  had  I  not  looked  at  the  honest  face  of 
6i 


a  l^oman'^  ^totp 


the  poor  wife,  who,  without  uttering  a  word, 
showed  plainly  that  it  was  news  to  her,  and  I 
felt  sure  it  was  only  a  scheme  of  his  own  to 
make  us  uncomfortable.  He  seemed  disap- 
pointed that  he  had  not  made  a  greater  sensa- 
tion, and  as  no  one  replied  to  his  last  effort  he 
settled  himself  to  think  of  something  else  dis- 
agreeable. 

At  last,  with  a  more  extended  swear  than 
before,  he  said  he  was  tired,  and  was  going 
to  bed;  it  would  do  for  gentry,  who  could 
stay  in  bed  as  long  as  they  pleased,  to  sit 
up  late,  "but  I'm  no  gentry,  and  I'm  going 
to  bed."  There  were  two  beds  in  the  room, 
standing  foot  to  foot,  on  the  side  opposite  the 
fire-place.  One  was  for  us,  the  other  for  Brice, 
wife  and  baby,  your  Uncle  Robert  making  his 
bed  on  the  floor  with  the  carriage  cushions 
and  a  buffalo  robe  which  had  been  purchased 
at  Shawneetown.  He  evidently  felt  relieved 
that  he  was  not  under  the  necessity  of  getting 
into  the  infected  beds.  Although  I  did  not 
believe  there  was  any  danger,  I  took  the  pre- 
caution to  spread  some  pocket-handkerchiefs 
over  the  pillows,  and  by  only  removing  my 
outside  garments  and  putting  on  gloves,  a  thing 
I  could  not  induce  your  father  to  do,  felt 
pretty  secure  as  to  infection,  but  not  quite 
comfortable  as  respected  the  mood  of  mine 
host.  Being  very  tired  I  thought  I  would  lie 
down,  but  not  allow  myself  to  sleep.  Our 
trunks  were  deposited  in  the  same  room  where 
62 


of  pioneer  ^Fllinoi^ 


we  were,  and  I  imagined  that  there  had  been 
a  suspicious  eyeing  throughout  the  evening, 
and  that  the  inside  as  well  as  the  out  might 
prove  attractive;  as  we  were  so  evidently  in  close 
quarters  with  a  mad  man,  was  not  altogether 
at  ease  about  our  personal  safety.  I  was  very 
tired,  and  Morpheus  finally  overcame  all  my 
resolutions  and  made  me  forgetful  of  danger. 
I  do  not  know  how  long  I  had  slept,  when 
aroused  by  the  crying  of  baby  and  the  coarse 
swearing  of  the  father.  He  scolded  his  wife' 
for  letting  it  cry,  and  then  cursed  the  "little 
imp;  imp  of  the  devil."  The  wife  said  the 
child  needed  caring  for,  and  would  not  go  to 
sleep  without  it;  that  it  must  be  taken  to  the 
fire  and  made  dry  and  comfortable,  but  he 
swore  he  would  gag  the  squalling  brat.  After 
a  while  he  sprang  out  of  bed  and  pulling  the 
child  from  under  the  bed  clothes,  declared  he 
would  roast  it.  There  was  in  the  fire-place  a 
large  fire,  made  of  oak  logs,  which  were  all 
aglow  and  gave  light  to  the  whole  room.  He 
took  the  baby  under  one  arm,  and  with  two  or 
three  bounds  was  at  the  fire-place.  He  com- 
menced raking  open  the  coals,  still  holding 
baby  under  his  arm,  swearing  he  would  make 
a  back-log;  "yes,  I'll  brile  ye."  I  kept  both 
eyes  open  and  trembled  for  the  fate  of  the 
baby,  when,  to  my  surprise,  he  seated  himself, 
carefully  warmed  the  dry  linen  that  was  hang- 
ing by  the  fire,  and  in  the  most  handy  manner 
performed  all  that  a  good  nurse  or  mother 
63 


31  Woman'^  J>torp 


could  have  done.  And  now  that  baby  was  dry 
and  there  was  no  good  reason  for  crying,  and 
swearing  did  not  soothe,  he  pressed  "the  brat, 
imp  of  the  devil, ' '  to  his  breast,  and  commenced 
singing  a  good  Methodist  hymn  in  a  soft,  sub- 
dued voice,  and  had  it  been  my  first  impression 
I  should  have  supposed  him  a  most  devout 
Christian.  A  more  sudden  change  from  the 
profane  to  the  devotional  could  not  be  imagined. 
This  scene  occurred  forty-eight  years  ago, 
knd  now  it  is  as  fresh  to  my  mind  as  at  that 
time,  but  perfectly  to  describe  it  would  be  im- 
possible. The  most  provoking  part  of  the 
last  performance  was  that  I  had  to  enjoy  it 
alone;  no  one  to  share  with  me  the  ludicrous 
climax  of  the  closing  hymn,  your  father  and 
Uncle  Robert  being  asleep.  As  soon  as  it  was 
light  we  were  up  and  ready  for  a  leave-taking. 
At  the  five-mile  house  on  the  other  side  of  the 
swamp  we  found  a  plain,  decent  family,  who 
gave  us  a  breakfast  of  "common  doings," 
corn  bread  and  bacon,  without  any  attempt  at 
"wheat  bread  and  chicken  fixings,"  and  from 
them  we  heard  more  of  Brice  Hanna.  The 
man  told  us  that  Brice  had  a  good  farm  and  in 
his  way  kept  his  family  comfortable,  took  pride 
in  having  the  best  wagon  and  horses  in  the 
county.  He  had  always  been  proud  of  his 
wives,  the  one  we  saw  being  his  third,  but  his 
greatest  pride  was  in  his  peculiar  capacity  for 
swearing.  He  once  took  an  oath  that  he 
would  not  swear  again  for  two  years,  from  the 
64 


of  pioneer  ^\limx0 


fact  that  he  had  found  a  man  down  in  * 'Shaw- 
nee" who  could  out-swear  him,  and  he  said  he 
felt  mean  ever  after.  He  was  true  to  his  vow, 
but  when  the  two  years  had  expired  com- 
menced with  renewed  vigor.  The  gossip  of 
the  settlement  was  that  his  first  wife  died  of  a 
broken  heart,  that  he  had  poisoned  the  second, 
and  that  the  poor  young  creature  whom  we 
saw  had  jumped  into  the  well  to  drown  herself, 
but  the  water  not  being  deep,  was  pulled  out 
with  nothing  but  bruises  for  her  effort.  The 
man  did  not  believe  the  story  of  his  having 
poisoned  his  second  wife,  but  thought  what  was 
reported  of  the  last  might  be  true. 

We  had  left  Shawneetown  on  Saturday  with 
the  feeling  that  it  was  no  place  to  spend  the 
Sabbath,  and  finding  ourselves  at  a  worse  place 
at  night,  we  did  not  think  it  amiss  to  move  on 
Sunday  morning.  At  the  place  where  we 
breakfasted  they  told  us  there  was  no  place  of 
preaching  near,  but  on  the  other  side  of  the 
prairie  they  had  preaching  every  Sunday  in  a 
schoolhouse,  so  there  being  no  place  here  to 
stay  longer  than  to  breakfast  and  to  rest  our 
horses,  we  set  our  faces  northward  again,  and 
soon  after  starting  came  to  a  large  prairie;  I 
think  it  was  called  "Hind's  prairie."  This 
was  my  first  introduction  to  a  real  prairie,  and 
I  must  say  I  was  sorely  disappointed.  Your 
father  had  talked  so  much  about  their  beauty 
that  I  expected  to  feel  a  kind  of  enchantment. 
He  said,  **you  never  saw  anything  like  this  be- 
65 


31  l^oman'^  «§>torp 


fore."  I  said  '*no;  "  but  did  not  say  I  never 
saw  anything  more  dismal;  and  to  those  who 
have  seen  western  prairies  after  the  autumnal 
fires  have  passed  over,  leaving  them  in  all 
their  blackness,  with  an  occasional  strip  of 
coarse  grass  or  a  scrubby  bush,  it  will  be  need- 
less to  describe,  and  I  think  hard  to  gather 
beauties  from  it. 

We  did  not  reach  a  stopping  place  until 
dark.  Found  a  cabin  with  one  room,  the  two 
heads  alone  being  at  home.  The  '  'younguns, ' ' 
as  the  mother  said,  had  gone  to  preaching  at 
the  schoolhouse,  two  miles  off.  We  felt  no 
inclination  to  follow  and  join  in  the  services, 
although  they  said  that  the  "greatest  preacher 
in  the  sarkit  was  to  be  thar."  The  people  all 
thought  a  *  'power  of  him, ' '  and  he  was  "doing 
a  heap  of  good."  They  gave  us  a  clean,  coarse 
supper;  had  neither  coffee  nor  "store  tea," 
but  what  they  call  "mountain  tea,"  made  from 
some  herb  that  grew  in  that  region.  It  had  a 
pleasant  taste,  and  with  appetites  sharpened 
by  hunger  and  thirst  we  made  a  very  refreshing 
meal,  and  were  soon  snugly  occupying  the  one- 
legged  bedstead  that  stood  in  the  corner  of  the 
cabin.  If  I  had  endurance  to  write  all  I  would 
like,  I  would  tell  of  some  of  the  freaks  of  one- 
legged  bedsteads,  and  also  give  a  description 
of  them. 

I  do  not  recollect  where  we  stopped  Mon- 
day night,  but  remember  a  place  where  we 
called  about  noon  on  Tuesday,  and  the  mis- 
66 


of  pioneer  ^Plliuoi^ 


take  I  made.  As  we  went  into  the  yard  a  little 
boy  with  no  other  garment  on  than  a  shirt  was 
mounted  on  a  large  white  horse,  while  two 
larger  boys,  in  shirts  and  pants,  were  driving 
the  horse  around  the  house.  I  thought  they 
were  imposing  on  their  little  brother  and 
stopped  to  ask  them  not  to  tease  him  in  that 
way,  and  to  get  his  clothes  and  let  him  dress 
himself.  Your  father  looked  amused,  and  said 
I  had  come  too  late  in  the  season  to  see  the 
prairie  boys  * 'turned  into  their  shirts,"  a  west- 
ern custom  of  which  I  will  speak  hereafter. 
Your  father  called  for  a  pitcher  of  milk,  but 
the  pitcher  with  the  one  tumbler  furnished  was 
sufficient  for  me;  I  can  see  them  now  as  they 
then  looked  in  their  filth. 

Thursday,  November  26,  we  arrived  at  a 
very  comfortable  looking  two-story  log  house, 
just  before  sunset.  The  outward  appearance 
of  the  establishment  indicated  that  they  —  as 
the  westerners  say  — *  *  were  in  a  better  fix  ' '  than 
most  of  their  neighbors,  so  we  anticipated  a 
good  supper,  but  I  saw  the  lady  —  as  she  called 
herself — go  through  the  whole  process  of  pre- 
paring the  meal,  which  satisfied  all  my  cravings 
for  supper,  though  my  appetite  had  been  well 
sharpened  by  a  day's  ride.  I  could  relate  a 
queer  experience,  but  am  getting  along  slowly 
in  my  week's  travel  from  "Shawnee."  Your 
father  not  knowing  the  reason  why  I  could  not 
eat  supper,  being  out  with  the  host  during  the 
preparations,  asked  for  an  early  breakfast,  as 
67 


a  ?^Dman'^  J>torp 


we  might  not  find  as  good  a  place  on  the  way. 
Oh,  dear,  what  could  I  do  ?  In  vain  I  urged 
him  to  start  before  breakfast,  but  he  could  see 
no  reason  for  so  doing,  and  I  in  presence  of 
host  and  hostess  could  not  explain. 

Tired  and  supperless  I  went  to  bed,  and 
"nature's  sweet  restorer"  soon  came  to  my 
relief.  I  awoke  early,  and  perceiving  through 
the  chintz  curtains  that  hung  around  our  bed, 
that  there  was  light  in  the  room,  hastened  to 
awake  your  father,  and  urged  him  to  get  off 
without  waiting  for  breakfast.  He  peered 
through  the  loop-holes,  and  with  much  satisfac- 
tion told  me  it  was  the  fire-light  I  saw,  and  they 
were  preparing  our  breakfast.  Oh,  oh,  oh! 
what  could  I  do  ?  I  told  him  it  would  be  im- 
possible for  me  to  eat  a  mouthful  in  that  house, 
and  that  what  I  had  seen  the  night  before  was 
already  more  than  I  could  stand;  but  before 
we  were  ready  to  start  breakfast  was  smoking 
on  the  table,  and  I  had  no  alternative  but  to 
sit  down.  Fortunately  the  lady  thought  I 
might  be  sick,  and  rummaging  somewhere 
brought  me  a  cracker,  which,  with  some  honey- 
comb that  was  on  the  table,  made  an  apology 
for  a  breakfast.  Hunger  had  so  far  gained 
the  ascendancy  that  I  would  not  look  to  see 
the  place  where  the  cracker  had  been  deposited. 

We  were  soon  ready  to  take  up  our  line  of 

travel,  and  to  say  farewell  to  our  hosts.     Mine 

host,  by  the  way,   was  no  mean  personage; 

talked  politics,  did  not  swear;  said  he  had  been 

68 


of  poneec  S^llinoi^ 


thinking  of  running  for  the  legislature;  seemed 
to  be  in  good  humor  with  every  one  —  particu- 
larly himself.  Mine  hostess  had  children  from 
boys  of  sixteen  or  eighteen  to  the  wee  baby 
sitting  on  the  floor,  with  a  darkey  of  the  mas- 
culine gender  for  a  nurse;  said  nurse  was 
about  as  large  as  a  good-sized  dog,  and  could 
act  dog  or  monkey,  as  best  suited  baby's  whims; 
so  having  a  darkey  she  was  a  mistress,  conse- 
quently a  lady.  When  we  were  again  on  our 
way  I  had  the  time  to  review  the  incidents  of 
the  past  week.  Shawneetown,  the  encounter 
with  the  stump  at  our  watering  place,  Brice 
Hanna,  the  poverty,  ignorance,  and  filthiness 
of  the  people  I  had  met,  the  black  dismal 
prairie  I  had  crossed,  suffering  from  pinching 
hunger,  and,  with  feelings  better  imagined  than 
described,  was  feeling  that  the  farther  I  went 
the  worse  things  I  might  have  to  encounter. 
When  your  father  said  "the  breakfast  seemed 
pretty  good,"  I  asked  him  if  he  thought  it  had 
time  to  digest  ?  If  so,  I  would  tell  him  of  a 
few  things  that  went  to  make  his  meal. 

After  leaving  Shawneetown  we  had  been 
traveling  in  a  northwesterly  direction,  making 
a  circuitous  route  in  order  to  head  the  water 
courses,  there  being  no  bridges  in  those  days. 
On  Wednesday,  about  noon,  we  came  to  the 
Kaskaskia  River,  where  there  was  a  rope  ferry. 
I  had  never  seen  anything  like  it  before  —  be- 
lieve it  is  called  cordelling. 


69 


a  Woman'^  ^torp 


February  7,  1871. 

Have  not  been  able,  on  account  of  my  rheu- 
matic infirmity,  to  write  for  several  weeks, 
and  I  cannot  make  up  my  mind  to  read  over 
what  I  have  written  of  late,  but  imagine  that 
although  true  to  the  letter  it  is  fidgety,  par- 
taking of  my  uncomfortable  temperament  at 
the  time  I  wrote,  for  I  was  looking  back  to 
the  dark  events  of  nearly  fifty  years'  standing 
under  the  shadow  that  dyspeptic  eyes  can  cast 
over  even  things  cheering.  I  will  endeavor  to 
forget  the  trivial  perplexities  that  were  so 
vividly  occupying  my  mind  at  that  time.  I 
have  been  enabled  through  the  most  of  my 
sickness  to  keep  a  bright  future,  and  think  I 
still  do,  but  so  many  weaknesses,  dyspeptic 
troubles,  my  irritating  cough  and  bronchial 
difficulties,  and  of  late  rheumatic  twinges,  all 
conspire  to  make  me  momentarily  desponding 
and  cause  me  to  bury  myself  under  a  heavy 
cloud.  I  rejoice  that  the  cloud  soon  passes 
away,  and  that  I  am  left  to  meditate  on  the 
loving  kindness  that  has  always  surrounded 
me.  Cast  down,  but  through  the  loving  kind- 
ness of  my  gentle  Shepherd,  I  feel  that  I  am 
not  forgotten  or  uncared  for. 

From  the  Kaskaskia  River  we  proceeded  to 
the  town  of  Carlyle,  the  county  seat  of  Clinton 
County,  where  we  found  several  frame  houses, 
the  first  I  had  seen  after  leaving  Shawneetown. 
We  drove  up  to  a  comfortable  looking  frame 
70 


of  pioneer  S^IIinoi^  ' 


tavern,  and  were  ushered  into  their  dining 
room,  where  was  a  nice  fire  of  hickory  wood, 
with  a  clean  brick  hearth,  which  had  evidently 
been  washed  that  day;  brass  andirons,  too, 
clean  and  bright.  I  had  only  time  to  divest 
myself  of  my  outer  wrapping  when  dinner  was 
brought  in.  The  nice  roast  chickens  with  all 
their  accompaniments  were  prepared  in  Yankee 
style,  and  set  on  a  nicely  washed  and  ironed 
table  cloth,  to  say  nothing  of  the  peach  pie, 
and  sundry  other  things.  Did  I  not  luxuriate  ? 
I  do  not  think  I  am  particularly  given  to  gor- 
mandizing, but  after  such  loathing  of  food  for 
a  week  and  dire  starvation,  that  dinner  and  the 
tidiness  and  comfort  that  reigned  in  that 
dwelling  is  so  indelibly  impressed  on  my  mind 
as  never  to  be  forgotten. 

After  dinner  we  rode  twenty  miles  to  Green- 
ville, the  county  seat  of  Bond  County.  I  went 
with  a  lighter  heart  after  being  fed,  and  feeling, 
too,  that  I  was  not  entirely  beyond  the  bounds 
of  civilization.  At  Greenville,  where  we  ar- 
rived a  little  after  dark,  we  went  to  the  Blan- 
chards',  the  Stoughton,  Massachusetts,  family 
of  whom  I  have  before  spoken.  Mr.  Blanchard 
was  walking  the  floor  with  his  little  daughter 
to  keep  her  from  crying,  and  thereby  disturb 
her  mother,  who  was  in  the  room  above,  and 
had  an  infant  a  few  days  old.  After  supper  we 
received  calls  from  Benjamin  Mills  and  Dr.  New- 
hall,  who  had  heard  of  our  arrival,  and  came 
over  from  their  respective  offices;  also  from  Mr. 
71 


31  ?3^oman'^  Motp 


and  Mrs.  Birge,  who  lived  in  a  small  brick  build- 
ing opposite.  Mr.  Birge  had  a  store,  and  was 
postmaster  of  Bond  County.  They  lived  in  the 
only  brick  house  in  the  county.  Mrs.  Birge 
was  a  sister  of  Mrs.  Blanchard.  Their  visit 
was  ostensibly  a  congratulatory  one,  and  all 
seemed  much  pleased  to  see  your  father;  but  I 
was  also  much  amused  to  perceive  the  curiosity 
at  work  in  investigating  what  kind  of  a  wife 
Tillson  had  brought  out.  Your  Uncle  Robert, 
too,  was  thoroughly  scanned. 

In  the  morning  I  was  invited  up  to  see  Mrs. 
Blanchard,  who  was  sitting  up  in  bed  with  her 
hair  in  long  ringlets,  and  looking  as  if  she  never 
could  be  nervous.  We  then  started  for  our 
home,  being  only  twenty  miles  from  our 
destination.  We  crossed  one  of  the  forks 
of  Shoal  Creek,  which  was  then  fordable,  and 
a  long  prairie,  then  entered  the  timber  land 
which  bordered  another  fork  of  the  creek. 
Winding  through  the  woods  without  any  road, 
we  at  last  came  out  on  a  public  road,  just 
opened  between  Vandalia  and  Springfield,  and 
soon  came  in  sight  of  our  future  home,  our  log 
house,  enclosed,  as  you  will  see  in  my  rough 
drawing,  by  a  fence.  It  was  situated  on  the 
top  of  a  high  bluff  from  which  there  was  a 
steep  descent  on  the  south,  reaching  to  what 
was  termed  the  bottom,  and  where  your  father 
afterwards  made  what  he  called  his  "bottom 
farm."  He  built  a  cabin  thereon,  and  rented 
it  to  Billy  Buzan. 

72 


of  pioneer  S^llinoi^ 


Arrived  at  the  house,  we  were  met  by  a 
horseman  who  said  he  had  been  on  the  look- 
out for  us  for  several  days.  I  was  then  for- 
mally introduced  to  Mr.  Shurtleff .  I  had  heard 
your  father  speak  of  him.  He  addressed  me 
as  an  old  acquaintance  and  said  he  knew  my 
father  well,  which  knowledge  I  afterwards 
found  to  be  that  my  father,  being  colonel  of  a 
militia  regiment,  once  a  year  at  "muster"  the 
colonel  inspected  the  several  companies  belong- 
ing to  the  regiment,  and  Shurtleff,  being  a 
private  in  a  Carver  company,  saw  my  father 
every  time  the  inspection  took  place;  hence 
his  acquaintance  with  me.  Your  father,  pre- 
vious to  leaving  Massachusetts,  had  written 
Mr.  Rountree  that  he  should  take  back  a  wife 
and  a  brother,  and  wanted  him  to  remain  in 
the  house  and  board  us  through  the  winter. 
Not  hearing  from  him,  had  supposed  it  was  all 
arranged  as  he  wished ;  he  had  also  written  to 
have  a  kitchen  built  in  the  rear  of  the  house 
for  Mr.  Rountree's  benefit,  while  we  were  to 
occupy  the  house. 

Judge  of  my  surprise  when  on  entering  to 
find  the  house  without  any  vestige  of  furniture, 
excepting  the  front  bedroom,  where  little 
Major  Black  was  in  full  possession.  In  "the 
office"  was  the  old  desk  and  book-case  which 
John  now  has  in  Quincy,  two  writing  desks,  a 
sheet-iron  stove,  and  four  split-bottomed  chairs. 
The  room  had  one  window  and  a  puncheon 
floor.     Mr.  Black  said  Mr.  Rountree  had  re- 

73 


a  ^oman'^  ^tarp 


ceived  your  father's  letter,  but  had  finished  his 
cabin  and  moved  into  it,  leaving  him  with  a  few 
quarts  of  corn-meal  in  a  bag,  and  a  handful 
of  salt  done  up  in  a  newspaper.  There  had 
been  quite  an  amount  of  money  paid  into  the 
office,  brought  up  from  St.  Louis  in  specie  to 
pay  the  non-resident  taxes,  and  as  Mr.  Black 
had  not  deemed  it  safe  to  leave  the  premises 
even  long  enough  to  get  a  meal,  he  had  lived 
on  roasted  potatoes,  seasoned  with  the  salt  that 
had  been  left  him,  and  slaked  his  thirst  from 
the  deep  well  in  front  of  the  house.  He  had 
a  mattress  and  a  couple  of  blankets  belonging 
to  your  father,  and  these  with  a  buffalo  robe 
served  for  pillow,  sheets,  and  covering. 

Mr.  Rountree  had  rented  the  ground  under 
the  peach  trees  and  made  a  "truck  patch  ;  " 
had  divided  the  products,  depositing  your 
father's  share  of  potatoes,  turnips,  and  cabbage 
under  the  floor,  w^hich  was  fortunate  for  Mr. 
Black  in  his  extremity.  Mr.  Black  said  that 
Colonel  Seward  had  been  down,  and  left  word 
for  us  to  go  to  his  house  and  remain  until  ours 
could  be  made  ready  for  occupancy;  as  had 
also  Mr.  Townsend,  the  Rev.  Jesse.  I  sat  in 
the  office  with  Mr.  Black  while  your  father 
went  to  Jesse  Buzan's  and  engaged  board  for 
Black  and  your  Uncle  Robert,  arranging  so 
that  one  could  stay  in  the  office  while  the  other 
went  to  his  meals.  While  this  was  going  on, 
Mr.  Shurtleff  had  cleared  our  carriage  of 
everything  contained  therein  and  brought  them 
74 


of  ^ioneei:  ^Pllmoi^ 


into  the  house,  carefully  examining  every  trunk 
and  parcel;  and  although  he  lived  the  nearest 
of  anyone  to  our  dwelling,  never  once  hinted 
our  taking  a  meal  with  him,  though  he  well 
knew  we  had  not  taken  food  after  leaving 
Greenville  in  the  morning.  So  when  your 
father  was  ready  to  start  for  Colonel  Seward's, 
the  trunks  had  to  be  taken  back  to  the  carriage. 
We  arrived  at  the  Seward's,  three  miles  from 
our  place,  about  sunset.  Mrs.  Seward,  a  dear, 
good  woman,  and  Harriet,  now  Mrs.  Wm.  H. 
Brown  of  Chicago,  were  the  only  members  of 
the  family  at  home.  Before  our  evening  meal 
was  ready  the  Colonel  with  his  boy,  John,  ar- 
rived from  Vandalia.  The  legislature  having 
removed  from  Kaskaskia,  were  to  hold  their 
first  session  at  Vandalia  that  winter,  ^^  and 
Israel  Seward  Jr.,  with  his  wife  and  niece, 
Sally  Slayback,  had  taken  a  house  there  to 
board  members  of  the  legislature,  leaving  their 
two  older  children,  William  and  George,  with 
their  grandfather.  The  old  Colonel  was  all 
smiles  and  gave  me  a  most  cordial  welcome, 

"Vandalia,  created  capital  of  Illinois  by  the  fiat  of 
the  first  state  legislature,  at  the  time  lay  eighty  miles 
in  the  wilderness.  Extravagant  expectations  were  at 
first  entertained  concerning  the  growth  of  the  town 
thus  created.  These  were  disappointed,  and  several 
years  before  the  close  of  the  twenty-year  period  for 
which  the  capital  had  been  fixed  at  Vandalia,  rival 
towns  were  seeking  to  secure  the  coveted  prize.  It 
finally  went  to  Springfield,  due  to  the  scheming  of  a 
group  of  legislators  from  Sangamon  County,  in  which 
Abraham  Lincoln  bore  a  prominent  part. 

75 


31  ^oman'^  ^torp 


as  had  also  Mrs.  and  Miss  Seward;  and  it  was 
a  cordial  to  my  feelings,  particularly  after  my 
introduction  and  experience  with  my  nearest 
neighbor.  I  wish  I  could  describe  him  as  I 
first  saw  him  in  front  of  the  house.  Imagine 
a  very  tall,  lank  man,  with  his  legs  encased  in 
a  pair  of  linsey  pantaloons,  rough  and  dirty; 
over  these,  leggings  that  came  above  the  knees, 
made  from  an  old  bed-blanket  and  tied  up 
with  some  buckskin  strings;  then  an  old  drab 
overcoat  and  a  shabby  hat;  a  saddle  girth  tied 
around  his  waist,  and  a  coarse,  woolen  scarf 
around  his  neck,  and  all  dirty.  So  many  such 
personages  presented  themselves,  welcoming 
your  father  back,  that  I  should  not  particularly 
remember  his  appearance  had  not  my  first 
impressions  been  strengthened  by  further  ac- 
quaintance. 

It  was  the  twenty-eighth  of  November  when 
we  arrived  at  Colonel  Seward's,  and  I  had  a 
more  homelike  feeling  than  for  many  weeks. 
We  had  a  clean,  comfortable  meal.  Mother 
Seward  and  Harriet  each  performing  their 
part  in  the  domestic  duties,  while  the  Colonel 
talked  politics  and  discussed  the  affairs  of  the 
state.  Their  house  was  about  the  size  of  ours, 
but  had  not  been  divided  by  any  partitions. 
On  the  opposite  side  from  the  fireplace  were 
two  beds,  standing  foot  to  foot;  there  was  a 
square  frame  over  each,  from  which  were  sus- 
pended curtains  that  went  around  the  front 
and  foot  of  each  bed.  The  curtains  were  so 
76 


of  pioneer  ^Fllinoi^ 


arranged  as  to  leave  about  a  foot  of  space 
between  the  bed  and  curtain,  to  which  we  could 
pin  our  dresses,  and  by  inexpansiveness  could 
stand  within  the  curtain  and  feel  that  we  had  all 
the  privacy  of  a  dressing  room.  One  of  the  beds 
was  for  the  Colonel  and  his  wife  and  we  had  the 
other,  while  Harriet  slept  in  a  small  bed,  which, 
during  the  day,  was  rolled  under  the  Colonel's. 
After  breakfast  Friday  morning  your  father 
went  down  to  the  office,  and  said  he  should  not 
return  until  Saturday  night.  I  had  a  pleas- 
ant, quiet  day  with  Mrs.  Seward  and  Harriet. 
Towards  night  it  began  to  snow  and  blow, 
and  as  I  stood  by  the  window  —  the  house  had 
but  one  —  watching  the  storm,  a  loud  rapping 
announced  the  arrival  of  more  company.  Miss 
Harriet  opened  the  door  and  ushered  in  two 
respectable-looking  gentlemen.  One  she  intro- 
duced as  Mr.  Conover;  although  I  well  remem- 
ber the  looks  of  the  other,  I  cannot  recall  his 
name;  but  as  if  it  had  occurred  yesterday  I 
remember  how  he  divested  himself  of  his  leg- 
gings and  buffalo  overshoes,  and  with  what  a 
satisfied  look  he  gazed  at  the  fire  and  took  a 
survey  of  the  room.  They  were  members  of 
the  legislature  from  Sangamon,  on  their  way 
to  Vandalia.  Before  we  had  finished  our  eve- 
ning meal  Mrs.  Butler  Seward  came  to  call  on 
me.  She  lived  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from 
the  Colonel's,  in  the  same  grove.  As  they  had 
other  company  at  the  Colonel's  she  invited 
Harriet  and  myself  to  return  with  her  and  pass 


a  ^oman'^  ^torp 


the  night,  so  we  went,  Harriet  rising  while  it 
was  yet  dark  to  go  home  and  assist  her  mother, 
while  I  remained  to  breakfast. 

Saturday  night  your  father  came  up,  bringing 
the  carriage,  and  said  he  would  take  us  all  to 
"preaching"  the  next  day. 

Sunday  morning,  December  2,  was  cold  and 
pinching;  winter  had  commenced  in  earnest. 
We  rode  about  two  miles  to  a  log  cabin  which, 
during  week  days,  was  the  schoolhouse  of  the 
village  or  settlement  schoolmaster,  and  Sundays 
was  open  to  the  ''circuit  rider," — Methodist 
preacher, — who  came  around  "  onst "  a  month, 
and  to  the  "Cumberlands,"  — Cumberland 
Presbyterians, — who  occasionally  preached 
there;  also  to  the  "  Hard-shells,"  and  to  the 
"Seventh-day"  Baptists — all  were  tolerated. 
When  we  arrived  the  service  had  just  com- 
menced; a  movement  was  made  to  give  Har- 
riet and  myself  a  seat  by  the  fire,  while  your 
father  posted  himself  on  one  of  the  school- 
house  benches  that  stood  against  the  wall. 
The  preacher,  big  and  burly,  was  about  start- 
ing the  hymn,  which  was  done  by  reading  the 
first  two  lines  of  the  verse,  and  then  with  an 
indescribable  nasal  twang,  singing  to  the  tune 
of  "Old  Grimes,"  the  lines  that  had  been  re- 
peated.    This  was  a  favorite  among  them: 

"  When  I  can  read  my  titul  clare, 
Tue  mansheons  in  the  skei, 
I'll  bid  farewell  to  everie  fear, 
And  wipe  my  weeping  ye,  yi,  yi, 
and  wipe  "  &c, 
78 


of  J^ioncer  S^Ilinoi^ 


arranged  as  to  leave  about  a  foot  of  space 
between  the  bed  and  curtain,  to  which  we  could 
pin  our  dresses,  and  by  inexpansiveness  could 
stand  within  the  curtain  and  feel  that  we  had  all 
the  privacy  of  a  dressing  room.  One  of  the  beds 
was  for  the  Colonel  and  his  wife  and  we  had  the 
other,  while  Harriet  slept  in  a  small  bed,  which, 
during  the  day,  was  rolled  under  the  Colonel's. 
After  breakfast  Friday  morning  your  father 
went  down  to  the  office,  and  said  he  should  not 
return  until  Saturday  night.  I  had  a  pleas- 
ant, quiet  day  with  Mrs.  Seward  and  Harriet. 
Towards  night  it  began  to  snow  and  blow, 
and  as  I  stood  by  the  window  —  the  house  had 
but  one  —  watching  the  storm,  a  loud  rapping 
announced  the  arrival  of  more  company.  Miss 
Harriet  opened  the  door  and  ushered  in  two 
respectable-looking  gentlemen.  One  she  intro- 
duced as  Mr.  Conover;  although  I  well  remem- 
ber the  looks  of  the  other,  I  cannot  recall  his 
name;  but  as  if  it  had  occurred  yesterday  I 
remember  how  he  divested  himself  of  his  leg- 
gings and  buffalo  overshoes,  and  with  what  a 
satisfied  look  he  gazed  at  the  fire  and  took  a 
survey  of  the  room.  They  were  members  of 
the  legislature  from  Sangamon,  on  their  way 
to  Vandalia.  Before  we  had  finished  our  eve- 
ning meal  Mrs.  Butler  Seward  came  to  call  on 
me.  She  lived  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from 
the  Colonel's,  in  the  same  grove.  As  they  had 
other  company  at  the  Colonel's  she  invited 
Harriet  and  myself  to  return  with  her  and  pass 
77 


at  i^pii^^ii^^  ^torp 


the  night,  so  we  went,  Harriet  rising  while  it 
was  yet  dark  to  go  home  and  assist  her  mother, 
while  I  remained  to  breakfast. 

Saturday  night  your  father  came  up,  bringing 
the  carriage,  and  said  he  would  take  us  all  to 
"preaching"  the  next  day. 

Sunday  morning,  December  2,  was  cold  and 
pinching;  winter  had  commenced  in  earnest. 
We  rode  about  two  miles  to  a  log  cabin  which, 
during  week  days,  was  the  schoolhouse  of  the 
village  or  settlement  schoolmaster,  and  Sundays 
was  open  to  the  "circuit  rider," — Methodist 
preacher, — who  came  around  "  onst "  a  month, 
and  to  the  "Cumberlands,"  —  Cumberland 
Presbyterians, — who  occasionally  preached 
there;  also  to  the  "  Hard-shells,"  and  to  the 
"Seventh-day"  Baptists  —  all  were  tolerated. 
When  we  arrived  the  service  had  just  com- 
menced; a  movement  was  made  to  give  Har- 
riet and  myself  a  seat  by  the  fire,  while  your 
father  posted  himself  on  one  of  the  school- 
house  benches  that  stood  against  the  wall. 
The  preacher,  big  and  burly,  was  about  start- 
ing the  hymn,  which  was  done  by  reading  the 
first  two  lines  of  the  verse,  and  then  with  an 
indescribable  nasal  twang,  singing  to  the  tune 
of  "Old  Grimes,"  the  lines  that  had  been  re- 
peated.    This  was  a  favorite  among  them: 

"When  I  can  read  my  titul  clare, 
Tue  mansheons  in  the  skei, 
I'll  bid  farewell  to  everie  fear, 
And  wipe  my  weeping  ye,  yi,  yi, 
and  wipe  "  &c. 
78 


of  ^imtct  ^fllmoi^ 


into  the  house,  carefully  examining  every.trunk 
and  parcel;  and  although  he  lived  the  nearest 
of  anyone  to  our  dwelling,  never  once  hinted 
our  taking  a  meal  with  him,  though  he  well 
knew  we  had  not  taken  food  after  leaving 
Greenville  in  the  morning.  So  when  your 
father  was  ready  to  start  for  Colonel  Seward's, 
the  trunks  had  to  be  taken  back  to  the  carriage. 
We  arrived  at  the  Seward's,  three  miles  from 
our  place,  about  sunset.  Mrs.  Seward,  a  dear, 
good  woman,  and  Harriet,  now  Mrs.  Wm.  H. 
Brown  of  Chicago,  were  the  only  members  of 
the  family  at  home.  Before  our  evening  meal 
was  ready  the  Colonel  with  his  boy,  John,  ar- 
rived from  Vandalia.  The  legislature  having 
removed  from  Kaskaskia,  were  to  hold  their 
first  session  at  Vandalia  that  winter,  ^^  and 
Israel  Seward  Jr.,  with  his  wife  and  niece, 
Sally  Slayback,  had  taken  a  house  there  to 
board  members  of  the  legislature,  leaving  their 
two  older  children,  William  and  George,  with 
their  grandfather.  The  old  Colonel  was  all 
smiles   and  gave  me  a  most  cordial  welcome, 

"Vandalia,  created  capital  of  Illinois  by  the  fiat  of 
the  first  state  legislature,  at  the  time  lay  eighty  miles 
in  the  wilderness.  Extravagant  expectations  were  at 
first  entertained  concerning  the  growth  of  the  town 
thus  created.  These  were  disappointed,  and  several 
years  before  the  close  of  the  twenty-year  period  for 
which  the  capital  had  been  fixed  at  Vandalia,  rival 
towns  were  seeking  to  secure  the  coveted  prize.  It 
finally  went  to  Springfield,  due  to  the  scheming  of  a 
group  of  legislators  from  Sangamon  County,  in  which 
Abraham  Lincoln  bore  a  prominent  part. 

75 


ai  ^oman'^  cf^torp 


as  had  also  Mrs.  and  Miss  Seward;  and  it  was 
a  cordial  to  my  feelings,  particularly  after  my 
introduction  and  experience  with  my  nearest 
neighbor.  I  wish  I  could  describe  him  as  I 
first  saw  him  in  front  of  the  house.  Imagine 
a  very  tall,  lank  man,  with  his  legs  encased  in 
a  pair  of  linsey  pantaloons,  rough  and  dirty; 
over  these,  leggings  that  came  above  the  knees, 
made  from  an  old  bed-blanket  and  tied  up 
with  some  buckskin  strings;  then  an  old  drab 
overcoat  and  a  shabby  hat;  a  saddle  girth  tied 
around  his  waist,  and  a  coarse,  woolen  scarf 
around  his  neck,  and  all  dirty.  So  many  such 
personages  presented  themselves,  welcoming 
your  father  back,  that  I  should  not  particularly 
remember  his  appearance  had  not  my  first 
impressions  been  strengthened  by  further  ac- 
quaintance. 

It  was  the  twenty-eighth  of  November  when 
we  arrived  at  Colonel  Seward's,  and  I  had  a 
more  homelike  feeling  than  for  many  weeks. 
We  had  a  clean,  comfortable  meal.  Mother 
Seward  and  Harriet  each  performing  their 
part  in  the  domestic  duties,  while  the  Colonel 
talked  politics  and  discussed  the  affairs  of  the 
state.  Their  house  was  about  the  size  of  ours, 
but  had  not  been  divided  by  any  partitions. 
On  the  opposite  side  from  the  fireplace  were 
two  beds,  standing  foot  to  foot;  there  was  a 
square  frame  over  each,  from  which  were  sus- 
pended curtains  that  went  around  the  front 
and  foot  of  each  bed.  The  curtains  were  so 
76 


of  pioneer  S^llinoi^ 


died  in  Syria;  I  think  he  was  cousin  to  the 
Leggetts'. 

From  Edwardsville  we  started  for  St.  Louis, 
only  twenty  miles,  but  owing  to  the  bad  travel- 
ing did  not  reach  the  Mississippi  River  until 
just  before  sunset.  The  ice  was  running  in 
the  river  so  that  the  ferryboat  had  not  been  used 
for  several  days,  and  passengers  were  taken 
over  in  a  skiff.  Not  knowing  the  danger  to 
which  we  would  be  exposed,  we  went  into 
the  skiff,  your  father,  myself,  and  a  gentle- 
man who  had  come  with  us  from  Edwards- 
ville, and  we  were  pushed  off  into  the  mighty 
river.  Two  men  acted  as  rowers,  while  two 
others  stood  with  long  poles  to  turn  aside 
the  huge  piles  of  ice  which  would  at  times 
rush  upon  the  boat,  and  it  seemed  as  if  noth- 
ing could  save  us,  and  while  one  was  being 
shoved  away  another  would  be  bearing  down 
and  stop  all  movement.  The  boatmen — if  I 
had  not  previously  heard  from  Brice  Hanna, 
the  finishing  of  all  profanity — I  should  have 
thought  the  most  wicked  and  hardened  men  I 
had  ever  met,  swearing  at  each  other  and  swear- 
ing at  the  great  banks  of  ice,  challenging  each 
as  they  came  in  contact  with  our  boat  to  keep 
out  of  the  way  or  they  would  send  them  to  a 
place  "whar"  ice  did  not  grow. 

When  we  arrived  at  St.  Louis  people  would 

hardly  believe  that  we  had  crossed  the  river 

that  day,  as  it  was  at  the  risk  of  life  to  make 

the  attempt,  and  I  began  to  more  fully  realize 

89 


a  Woman'^  ^torp 


the  danger  through  which  we  had  passed;  and 
now,  when  I  look  back  and  think  of  the  hair- 
breadth escapes  I  was  carried  through  in  my 
early  journeyings,  it  leads  me  to  inquire  for 
what  purpose  and  end  was  I  spared  ?  I  have 
been  but  an  unprofitable  servant  in  the  vineyard 
of  Him  whom  I  have  proposed  to  serve. 

We  spent  about  two  weeks  in  St.  Louis, 
putting  up  at  Mrs.  Paddock's,  who  kept  a 
boarding  house .  She  was  from  Middleborough, 
Massachusetts.  Her  husband  was  on  a  farm  in 
Illinois  and  a  part  of  the  family  were  with  him, 
while  Madame  Paddock  presided  over  the  St. 
Louis  establishment .  They  had  eight  daughters 
and  one  son,  the  youngest  child,  then  a  lad  in  a 
store  in  St.  Louis,  afterwards  a  merchant  at 
Springfield,  Illinois,  where  Mrs.  Enos,  one  of 
the  daughters,  lived.  Mr.  Enos^^  was  appointed 
receiver  of  public  moneys  under  John  Quincy 

^5  Pascal  P.  Enos  was  a  citizen  of  Connecticut  who 
came  west  to  Cincinnati  in  1815  and  the  following 
year  continued  his  migration  to  St.  Charles,  Missouri. 
From  1817  to  1821  he  lived  in  St.  Louis,  removing 
thence  to  Madison  County,  Illinois,  six  miles  north  . 
of  Edwardsville.  Mr.  Enos  was  appointed  by  Presi-, 
dent  Monroe  receiver  of  the  land  office  for  the  San- 
gamon district.  In  1823  he  joined  with  Elijah  lies, 
John  Taylor,  and  Thomas  Cox  in  entering  land  and 
laying  out  a  townsite  to  which  the  name  "  Calhoun" 
was  given.  For  some  reason  this  name  was  soon  dis- 
placed by  that  of  "  Springfield."  Mr.  Enos  died  at 
Springfield,  which  he  had  thus  helped  to  found,  in 
1832.  His  wife  was  living  at  Springfield  as  late  as 
1874,  being  then  in  her  eighty-fifth  year. 
90    • 


of  pioneer  S^IIinoi^ 


the  trunk,  asking  again  about  the  lock.  When 
I  turned  around  I  saw,  standing  bolt  upright, 
my  tall  friend,  watching  the  bag  and  looking 
determined  to  know  its  contents — another  tale 
to  be  told. 

We  arrived  at  Rev.  Jesse  Townsend's  about 
sunset,  nine  miles  on  our  way  to  St.  Louis. 
The  family  were  absent,  excepting  Mrs.  Town- 
send  with  her  son  Edwin  and  wife.  Mr. 
Townsend  had  gone  to  Edwardsville  to  estab- 
lish a  school;  Eleazer  and  wife  to  spend  the 
winter  at  Vandalia.  The  house  was  cheery 
and  comfortable.  A  large  family  room  with 
two  bedrooms  opening  out  of  it,  a  hall  with 
another  small  bedroom  at  the  side,  a  kitchen 
separate  from  the  house,  with  an  awning, 
where  in  the  summer  they  spread  their  table 
and  took  their  meals;  rooms  all  carpeted  with 
bag  carpeting,  old  tables  and  chairs  brought 
from  Palmyra,  New  York,  and  books  in  abun- 
dance. It  was  truly  heart-cheering,  and  made 
me  feel  that  there  might  yet  be  some  comfort 
in  living  in  IHinois.  Mrs.  Townsend  the  elder 
was  a  woman  of  intelligence,  but  had  been  sick, 
and  was  not  sanguine  about  Illinois;  Mrs.  Town- 
send  the  younger  was  a  sweet-tempered,  loving 
woman,  who  probably  had,  from  many  causes, 
more  reasons  for  repining  than  the  mother;  she 
was  very  cordial,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  at 
once  to  like  her,  and  never  had  cause  to  change 
my  feelings  toward  her.  She  was  a  Miss  Dur- 
fee,  from  Palmyra,  New  York. 
87 


a  5©oman'^  ^totp 


We   went   the   next   day   to    Edwardsville, 
thirty-five  miles;   stopped  at  Major  Hopkins', 
who  kept  hotel.      The  Major  was  a  son  of 
General  Hopkins  of  northern  New  York,  who 
had  been  an  influential  man  but  had  lost  his 
property,  and  had  died,  leaving  a  widow  and 
two  children.  Miss  Polly  and  the  Major.    They 
had  removed  to  Illinois  with  small  means  for 
a  beginning,  but  with  all  the  feelings  of  dig- 
nity that  their  former  position  had  given  them. 
Madam  was  a  lady  of  the  old  school,   and  a 
real  lady;   intelligent,  dignified,  and  with  most 
decidedly  religious  principles,  which  she  never 
put  in  compromise.      Miss   Polly  was  smart 
and  energetic,  but  with  such  a  high  seasoning 
of  sarcasm  that  it  was  said  she  was  the  terror 
of  all  gentlemen,  and  maintained  her  own  inde- 
pendent single  blessedness  for  more  than  forty 
years.     Her  brother,  the  Major,  was  a  pleas- 
ant little  gentleman,  with  all  the  polish  and 
civihty    of  a   Frenchman.     He   had    married 
a  Cincinnati  girl,  lovely-tempered  and  a  good 
housekeeper,  whose  common  sense  and  watch- 
fulness was   much  needed  in  such  a  family. 
At   the  table   we   met   the   Rev.   Mr.   Town- 
send,  at  whose  house  we  had  been  entertained 
the  previous  night,  and  Hooper  Warren  and 
wife.     Mr.   Warren    was    edijor  of  the   Ed- 
wardsville Spectator,  and  had"  just  married  a 
Miss  Adamson  of   Louisville;,  also  a  son   of 
Captain   Breath,   of   the    Maxine    settlement, 
who    afterwards    became    a    missionary    and 
88 


of  pioneer  S^IUnoi^ 


the  trunk,  asking  again  about  the  lock.  When 
I  turned  around  I  saw,  standing  bolt  upright, 
my  tall  friend,  watching  the  bag  and  looking 
determined  to  know  its  contents  —  another  tale 
to  be  told. 

We  arrived  at  Rev.  Jesse  Townsend's  about 
sunset,  nine  miles  on  our  way  to  St.  Louis. 
The  family  were  absent,  excepting  Mrs.  Town- 
send  with  her  son  Edwin  and  wife.  Mr. 
Townsend  had  gone  to  Edwardsville  to  estab- 
lish a  school;  Eleazer  and  wife  to  spend  the 
wirfter  at  Vandalia.  The  house  was  cheery 
and  comfortable.  A  large  family  room  with 
two  bedrooms  opening  out  of  it,  a  hall  with 
another  small  bedroom  at  the  side,  a  kitchen 
separate  from  the  house,  with  an  awning, 
where  in  the  summer  they  spread  their  table 
and  took  their  meals;  rooms  all  carpeted  with 
bag  carpeting,  old  tables  and  chairs  brought 
from  Palmyra,  New  York,  and  books  in  abun- 
dance. It  was  truly  heart-cheering,  and  made 
me  feel  that  there  might  yet  be  some  comfort 
in  living  in  Illinois.  Mrs.  Townsend  the  elder 
was  a  woman  of  intelligence,  but  had  been  sick, 
and  was  not  sanguine  about  Illinois;  Mrs.  Town- 
send  the  younger  was  a  sweet-tempered,  loving 
woman,  who  probably  had,  from  many  causes, 
more  reasons  for  repining  than  the  mother;  she 
was  very  cordial,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  at 
once  to  like  her,  and  never  had  cause  to  change 
my  feelings  toward  her.  She  was  a  Miss  Dur- 
fee,  from  Palmyra,  New  York. 
87 


a  Wovnan'0  ^torp 


We  went  the  next  day  to  Edwardsville, 
thirty-five  miles;  stopped  at  Major  Hopkins', 
who  kept  hotel.  The  Major  was  a  son  of 
General  Hopkins  of  northern  New  York,  who 
had  been  an  influential  man  but  had  lost  his 
property,  and  had  died,  leaving  a  widow  and 
two  children.  Miss  Polly  and  the  Major.  They 
had  removed  to  Illinois  with  small  means  for 
a  beginning,  but  with  all  the  feelings  of  dig- 
nity that  their  former  position  had  given  them. 
Madam  was  a  lady  of  the  old  school,  and  a 
real  lady;  intelligent,  dignified,  and  with  most 
decidedly  religious  principles,  which  she  never 
put  in  compromise.  Miss  Polly  was  smart 
and  energetic,  but  with  such  a  high  seasoning 
of  sarcasm  that  it  was  said  she  was  the  terror 
of  all  gentlemen,  and  maintained  her  own  inde- 
pendent single  blessedness  for  more  than  forty 
years.  Her  brother,  the  Major,  was  a  pleas- 
ant little  gentleman,  with  all  the  polish  and 
civility  of  a  Frenchman.  He  had  married 
a  Cincinnati  girl,  lovely-tempered  and  a  good 
housekeeper,  whose  common  sense  and  watch- 
fulness was  much  needed  in  such  a  family. 
At  the  table  we  met  the  Rev.  Mr.  Town- 
send,  at  whose  house  we  had  been  entertained 
the  previous  night,  and  Hooper  Warren  and 
wife.  Mr.  Warren  was  editor  of  the  Ed- 
wardsville Spectator,  and  had  just  married  a 
Miss  Adamson  of  Louisville;  also  a  son  of 
Captain  Breath,  of  the  Marine  settlement, 
who    afterwards    became    a    missionary    and 


of  pioneer  2f  lltnoi^ 


died  in  Syria;  I  think  he  was  cousin  to  the 
Leggetts'. 

From  Edwardsville  we  started  for  St.  Louis, 
only  twenty  miles,  but  owing  to  the  bad  travel- 
ing did  not  reach  the  Mississippi  River  until 
just  before  sunset.  The  ice  was  running  in 
the  river  so  that  the  ferryboat  had  not  been  used 
for  several  days,  and  passengers  were  taken 
over  in  a  skiff.  Not  knowing  the  danger  to 
which  we  would  be  exposed,  we  went  into 
the  skiff,  your  father,  myself,  and  a  gentle- 
man who  had  come  with  us  from  Edwards- 
ville, and  we  were  pushed  off  into  the  mighty 
river.  Two  men  acted  as  rowers,  while  two 
others  stood  with  long  poles  to  turn  aside 
the  huge  piles  of  ice  which  would  at  times 
rush  upon  the  boat,  and  it  seemed  as  if  noth- 
ing could  save  us,  and  while  one  was  being 
shoved  away  another  would  be  bearing  down 
and  stop  all  movement.  The  boatmen — if  I 
had  not  previously  heard  from  Brice  Hanna, 
the  finishing  of  all  profanity — I  should  have 
thought  the  most  wicked  and  hardened  men  I 
had  ever  met,  swearing  at  each  other  and  swear- 
ing at  the  great  banks  of  ice,  challenging  each 
as  they  came  in  contact  with  our  boat  to  keep 
out  of  the  way  or  they  would  sehd  them  to  a 
place  "whar"  ice  did  not  grow. 

When  we  arrived  at  St.  Louis  people  would 
hardly  believe  that  we  had  crossed  the  river 
that  day,  as  it  was  at  the  risk  of  life  to  make 
the  attempt,  and  I  began  to  more  fully  reahze 

89 


a  l^oman'^  ^torp 


the  danger  through  which  we  had  passed;  and 
now,  when  I  look  back  and  think  of  the  hair- 
breadth escapes  I  was  carried  through  in  my 
early  journeyings,  it  leads  me  to  inquire  for 
what  purpose  and  end  was  I  spared?  I  have 
been  but  an  unprofitable  servant  in  the  vineyard 
of  Him  whom  I  have  proposed  to  serve. 

We  spent  about  two  weeks  in  St.  Louis, 
putting  up  at  Mrs.  Paddock's,  who  kept  a 
boarding  house.  She  was  from  Middleborough, 
Massachusetts.  Her  husband  was  on  a  farm  in 
Illinois  and  a  part  of  the  family  were  with  him, 
while  Madame  Paddock  presided  over  the  St. 
Louis  establishment .  They  had  eight  daughters 
and  one  son,  the  youngest  child,  then  a  lad  in  a 
store  in  St.  Louis,  afterwards  a  merchant  at 
Springfield,  Illinois,  where  Mrs.  Enos,  one  of 
the  daughters,  lived.  Mr.  Enos^^  was  appointed 
receiver  of  public  moneys  under  John  Quincy 

^5  Pascal  P.  Enos  was  a  citizen  of  Connecticut  who 
came  west  to  Cincinnati  in  1815  and  the  following 
year  continued  his  migration  to  St.  Charles,  Missouri. 
From  1817  to  182 1  he  lived  in  St.  Louis,  removing 
thence  to  Madison  County,  Illinois,  six  miles  north 
of  Edwardsville.  Mr.  Enos  was  appointed  by  Presi- 
dent Monroe  receiver  of  the  land  office  for  the  San- 
gamon district.  In  1823  he  joined  with  Elijah  lies, 
John  Taylor,  and  Thomas  Cox  in  entering  land  and 
laying  out  a  townsite  to  which  the  name  "Calhoun" 
was  given.  For  some  reason  this  name  was  soon  dis- 
placed by  that  of  "Springfield."  Mr.  Enos  died  at 
Springfield,  which  he  had  thus  helped  to  found,  in 
1832.  His  wife  was  living  at  Springfield  as  late  as 
1874,  being  then  in  hdr  eighty-fifth  year. 
90 


of  pioneer  S^Hinoi^ 


Adams,  to  whom  he  was  said  to  bear  a  strong 
personal  likeness.  His  daughter,  Miss  Enos, 
married  Mr.  Hatch  of  Springfield.  William 
Porter,  who  nursed  Peggy's  baby,  was  employed 
by  Mr.  Enos  as  a  clerk  in  his  office,  a  situation 
more  adapted  to  his  style  than  holding  babies. 
At  St.  Louis  everything  seemed  strange,  and 
to  me  new.  The  gentlemen  were  from  every 
part  of  the  Union,  and  those  with  whom 
I  met  were  indeed  gentlemen,  and  there  was 
occasionally  to  be  found  a  lady,  mostly  from 
among  the  eastern  emigration.  The  French 
Catholic  ladies,  with  their  heaps  of  expensive 
finery  and  a  darkey  to  attend  them  whenever 
they  went  into  the  street,  were  to  me  a  subject 
of  study,  and  the  more  I  studied  the  more  pre- 
judiced I  became.  At  the  table  I  met  the 
three  brothers  Kerr;  they  were  all  single,  but 
afterwards  married,  and  we  always  kept  up  an 
acquaintance  with  them,  particularly  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Augustus  Kerr.  Mrs.  Kerr  was  a  very 
lovely  lady — a  Philadelphian.  They  visited 
us  when  you  were  not  quite  a  year  old  and  Mr. 
Kerr,  who  was  foolishly  fond  of  children  and 
had  none  of  his  own,  said  he  had  seen  nothing 
in  Boston  he  cared  to  appropriate  unless  it  was 
the  baby  girl  of  mine.  Mr.  Elliot  was  another 
with  whom  I  became  acquainted.  He  kept  a 
large  store  for  St.  Louis  at  that  time,  and  I 
purchased  my  crockery  of  him.  After  we  had 
made  our  purchases  he  invited  us  into  the  back 
room,  a  kind  of  sitting  room .  There  was  a  table 
91 


31  Woman'^  ^torp 


in  the  middle  of  the  room,  with  wine,  oranges, 
nuts,  coffee,  and  all  the  nice  things  the  market 
afforded.  It  was  a  preparation  for  us.  He 
had  known  your  father,  and  seemed  also  to 
take  a  "mighty  liking"  to  his  wife;  hence 
the  parade. 

One  day  I  wanted  something  from  the  store 
and  went  to  Mr.  Clemens,  on  the  same  street 
with  my  boarding  house,  made  my  purchase, 
took  my  small  parcel,  and  was  turning  to  go 
out,  when  Mr.  Clemens  inquired  if  I  was  un- 
attended. Finding  I  was,  he  took  his  hat, 
whirled  himself  over  the  counter,  and  escorted 
me  to  Mrs.  Paddock's  door.  I  thought  it  a 
stretch  of  southern  politeness,  but  later  I  knew 
more  of  the  habits  of  the  St.  Louisians,  and 
.that  only  a  few  years  before  the  red  men  had 
been  occupants  of  the  country  around,  and  that 
their  visits  were  still  frequent  and  unceremoni- 
ous, not  bringingthe  southern  gallantry  to  ladies 
to  bear  on  their  advances.  Pretty  squaw  was 
their  most  gracious  salutation,  and  that  only 
when  they  discovered  some  trinket  about  a 
lady's  dress  that  they  wished  to  appropriate, 
and  which  was  often  obtained  by  dint  of  flattery. 
Mr.  Clemens  was  at  that  time  a  suitor  of  Miss 
Julia  Paddock's,  who  was  a  great  beauty  and 
the  flower  of  the  family.  She  did  not  accept 
the  heart  and  hand  of  Mr.  Clemens,  but  after- 
wards married  Mr.  B.,  of  Springfield.  Mr. 
Clemens  married  into  the  rich  Mullanphy  fam- 
ily, where  with  his  broad  acres,  his  negroes, 
92 


of  ^iomtt  S^lltnoi^ 


and  his  French  Cathohc  wife,  he  became  ab- 
sorbed in  his  own  circle,  and  has  not  mixed 
with  the  American  population  since. 

Mr.  John  Warburton  was  also  a  boarder  in 
the  house,  and  being  a  Connecticut  Yankee  we 
became  acquainted  and  continued  a  friendly 
intercourse  through  his  life.  He  died  a  few 
years  ago  at  Hartford,  his  native  place,  having 
amassed  quite  a  fortune  and  sustained  a  high 
character  as  a  business  man  and  as  a  decided 
Christian  gentleman. 

The  first  Sabbath  after  we  arrived  a  hand- 
some young  gentleman  called  and  invited  us 
to  attend  church.  We  accepted  the  invitation 
and  went  with  him  to  a  small  building  on  Fourth 
Street,  considered  at  that  time  a  little  out  in 
the  country.  The  room  was  used  for  a  Pres- 
byterian church  on  the  Sabbath,  and  was  the 
only  one  in  St.  Louis.  The  preacher  was 
Rev.  Salmon  Giddings,  a  graduate  of  Williams 
College,  w^here  he  had  also  been  a  tutor. ^^     He 

^^The  Rev.  Salmon  Giddings,  a  Connecticut  man, 
was  the  founder  of  Presbyterianism  in  St.  Louis. 
Appointed  a  missionary,  he  rode  horseback  1,200 
miles  in  the  winter  of  1815-16,  arriving  at  St.  Louis 
in  April,  1816.  Before  his  death  in  1828  he  had  organ- 
ized many  Presbyterian  churches  in  the  city  (the  first 
in  November,  1817)  and  gained  a  remarkable  hold  on 
its  population.  His  funeral  was  attended  by  2,000 
people,  half  the  population  of  the  city.  When  the 
First  Presbyterian  church  was  dedicated  in  1855,  a 
funeral  hymn  was  sung  immediately  after  the  sermon, 
and  during  the  singing  Rev.  Mr.  Giddings'  body  was 
carried  in  and  deposited  in  a  vault  beneath  the  pulpit. 

93 


a  5^oman'i0?  ^totp 


was  then  a  bachelor,  but  afterwards  the  hus- 
band of  Miss  Almira  CoUins  and  the  father  of 
Frederic  Giddings  of  Quincy.  Mr.  Giddings 
used  the  room  on  the  Sabbath,  and  through  the 
week  our  escort  —  who  was  no  other  than 
Henry  H.  Snow,  afterwards  of  Quincy — pre- 
sided over  a  school  of  young  ladies.  These 
young  misses  were  from  the  aristocratic  fam- 
ilies of  St.  Louis  and  Mr.  Snow — a  handsome 
young  man  and  a  fine  singer  —  was  quite  a 
favorite  among  them.  He  led  the  singing  at 
the  church.  Mrs.  Paddock,  who  in  her  young 
days  had  been  a  singer,  and  was  still  fond  of 
music,  invited  Mr.  Snow  several  times  to  her 
house  to  meet  your  father,  and  one  evening 
had  quite  a  company,  apologizing  to  the  south- 
ern guests  for  getting  up,  instead  of  a  dance, 
a  psalm-singing,  explaining  that  psalm-singing 
was  a  Yankee  amusement. 

The  Paddocks  were  smart,  excellent  house- 
keepers; knew  how  to  make  their  household 
arrangements  comfortable  and  elegant;  could 
converse  sensibly,  appeared  well  at  a  dance, 
were  kind  to  friends,  but  horribly  severe  upon 
what  they  termed  Yankee  bigotry  in  matters 
of  religion.  They  called  themselves  Univer- 
sahsts,  and  I  am  sorry  to  say  did  not  do  much 
to  honor  their  Puritan  training.  The  next 
Sabbath  we  went  to  a  little  Methodist  chapel, 
the  only  Protestant  place  of  worship  in  St. 
Louis  with  the  exception  of  Judge  Snow's 
school-room.     The  pulpit  was  supplied  by  an 

94 


of  pioneer  ^Fllinoi^ 


English  gentleman  named  Keyte,  who  preached 
Methodism  on  Sunday  and  sold  goods  through 
the  week.  He  was  of  the  firm  of  Tiffany  & 
Keyte.  Mr.  Tiffany  was  from  Attleboro,  Mass- 
achusetts; hfe  afterwards  moved  to  Baltimore, 
and  is  the  father  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tiffany  of 
Chicago.  Tiffany  and  Keyte  sustained  a  good 
reputation  both  as  business  men  and  Christians. 

When  we  left  St.  Louis  we  took  with  us  a 
servant  girl  —  a  *'Kaintuck"  —  and  arrived  at 
our  place  of  abode  on  the  afternoon  of  Janu- 
ary 3.  I  am  tired  now,  and  must  take  a  rest, 
and  then  will  try  to  look  into  our  house  as  it 
presented  itself  on  that  memorable  afternoon 
of  January  3,  1823. 

After  Mr.  Black  had  left  the  office,  and 
during  our  absence,  William  Loomis,  a  car- 
penter, had  been  employed  to  build  a  flight  of 
stairs  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  in  place  of 
the  ladder,  and  to  finish  the  kitchen.  He  was 
to  board  at  Jesse  Buzan's  and  to  sleep  at  the 
house  with  Robert.  The  management  worked 
well  for  a  while,  but  for  some  reason  they 
decided  to  give  up  boarding  and  keep  "bach- 
elor's hall."  They  had  managed  to  get  a 
Dutch  oven  and  a  frying  pan,  the  former  for 
baking  their  corn  bread  and  the  frying  pan  for 
cooking  their  meat;  they  had  roasted  their 
potatoes  in  the  ashes.  They  had  a  cow,  which 
furnished  them  with  milk  and  butter.  They 
managed  the  dairy  by  taking  one  of  the  large, 
square  bottles  that  had  been  left  by  Simpson, 
95 


^  ^omaif^  J^torp 


and  filling  it  with  milk,  set  it  aside  for  drinking. 
Then  they  took  another  bottle  to  hold  what 
was  called  the  stoppings — the  richest  part, 
containing  the  cream.  First  I  should  have 
said  having  no  milk-pail,  they  had  milked  from 
the  cow  into  the  bottle.  Their  process  of 
turning  the- "strippings"  to  butter,  was  to  sit 
and  shake  the  bottle,  Loomis  shaking  until  he 
was  tired  and  then  passing  it  over  to  Robert, 
who  took  his  turn.  When  the  butter  '  *kum, ' ' 
as  Loomis  termed  it,  they  salted  it  with  some 
of  the  Rountree  salt,  and  using  the  buttermilk 
as  a  beverage,  they  sat  down  to  what  Loomis 
called  a  most  onexcellent  meal. 

However  "onexcellent"  their  meals  might 
have  been,  surely  elegance  did  not  reign  in  the 
cabin.  In  the  center  of  the  room  stood  the 
work-bench,  and  the  floor  was  covered  with 
shavings  about  a  foot  deep.  Loomis,  good 
soul!  was  always  kind  and  obliging,  but  his 
infirmity  it  was  to  have  an  imaginary  story  to 
tell  when  the  truth  would  have  been  quite  as 
convenient.  He  began  by  saying  that  they 
had  expected  us  home  every  night  for  the  last 
week  and  had  swept  the  floor  and  put  every- 
thing in  good  order  for  our  reception,  produc- 
ing a  broom  that  they  had  manufactured.  But 
that  day  they  had  been  out  to  get  more  tallow 
for  making  candles.  Your  father  remarked 
that  he  had  made  a  good  many  shavings  in  one 
day,  besides  so  much  candle  and  butter  making. 
Loomis  looked  confused  and  went  on  to  clean 
96 


of  ^ionttt  S^Hinoi^ 


the  room.  Loomis  and  Robert  took  down  the 
work-bench  and  removed  it  to  the  kitchen,  while 
I,  in  my  green  travehng-dress  and  hood,  with 
broom  in  hand  made  war  upon  the  swamp  of 
shavings  that  still  carpeted  the  puncheon  floor. 
Your  father  in  the  meantime  had  gone  over  to 
Shurtleff's,  and  bought  a  shoulder  of  pork. 
He  brought  it  home  just  as  the  teams  from 
St.  Louis  arrived  with  —  in  western  phrase  — 
our  plunder. 

The  room  was  cleaned,  and  we  were  in  a 
fair  way  to  get  up  another  "onexcellent " 
supper,  when  Loomis  told  us  they  had  used 
the  last  candle  the  night  before,  but  there  was 
some  deer  tallow  and  some  wicking  he  had  got 
from  old  Davy's,  and  some  molds  he  had 
brought  with  himself.  So  cooking  operations 
were  suspended.  I  arranged  the  wick  on  the 
moulds,  while  Joicy,  the  girl  we  had  brought 
with  us,  was  melting  the  deer  tallow  in  the 
frying  pan  at  the  fire-place.  The  moulds  were 
soon  filled  and  set  by  the  door  to  cool,  and 
Joicy  washed  the  frying  pan  and  commenced 
the  cooking  process.  I  managed  with  the 
help  of  Loomis  to  get  a  box  opened  and  to 
find  enough  dishes  to  put  on  the  table,  cov- 
ered with  some  clean  newspapers  instead  of  a 
damask,  and  while  the  candles  were  getting 
harder  we  were  softening  our  hungry  appetites 
by  a  good  cup  of  coffee,  the  last  of  a  canister 
of  ground  coffee  put  into  my  lunch  bag  by  my 
good  mother  when  I  left  home;  also  the  last 
97 


a  l^omaif  ^  ^totp 


of  a  little  bag  of  sugar  from  the  same  careful 
provider.  Loomis  had  slipped  down  to  Jesse's 
and  brought  a  tin  cup  of  Peggy's  cream,  and 
with  the  fried  pork  and  roasted  potatoes,  some 
bread  we  had  brought  from  St.  Louis,  and  the 
butter  that  the  boys  had  "shuck"  from  the 
"strippings,"  we  had  a  meal  most  refreshing, 
however  homely. 

Before  leaving  home  your  grandfather  put 
up  a  box  for  me,  of  such  things  as  would  be 
comfortable  and  proper  in  a  log  house.  There 
were  three  bed  ticks  with  bolster  and  pillow 
ticks  to  match,  ready  to  be  filled,  the  feathers 
sent  in  a  bale  by  themselves.  I  had  also 
bedding,  a  roll  of  common  carpeting,  table  and 
bed  linen  sufficient  for  a  beginning,  a  set  of 
waiters,  knives  and  forks,  and  our  housekeep- 
ing conveniences,  which  together  with  my 
winter  clothing  and,  indeed,  all  that  I  had 
excepting  what  I  brought  with  me  on  my 
seven  weeks'  trip  over  the  mountains,  we  had 
shipped  in  October,  two  weeks  before  we 
started  ourselves,  and  expected  to  find  them 
at  St.  Louis  on  our  arrival  there.  But  what 
was  our  disappointment  at  finding  that  the 
boat  on  which  they  had  been  shipped  from 
New  Orleans  had  not  been  heard  from.  So 
I  not  only  found  myself  lacking  in  household 
goods,  but  minus  my  winter  garments.  So  I 
had  bought  for  myself  a  brown  bombazine 
dress,  and  some  blue  and  white  domestic 
check  to  make  a  morning  dress  for  my  log 
98 


of  pioneer  S^llinoi^ 


establishment,  and  with  the  help  and  advice  of 
the  Misses  Paddock,  had  fitted  and  made  them. 
On  inquiring  the  price  of  furniture  we  found 
it  extremely  high,  and  hoping,  what  then 
appeared  to  be  hopeless,  that  I  might  get  the 
box  which  had  been  sent,  felt  unwilling  to  buy 
anything  it  contained  that  I  could  possibly  do 
without.  Fortunately  we  heard  of  a  Mrs. 
Bright  who  had  lost  her  husband  and  was  sell- 
ing off  her  furniture  preparatory  to  returning 
to  Philadelphia.  Hither  we  repaired,  and 
bought  two  cherry  tables  that  matched,  and 
formed  a  dining  table  with  circular  ends. 
Here  we  bought  a  large  bedstead  with  feather 
bed,  bolster,  and  pillows,  a  small  washstand,  and 
looking-glass  for  our  bedroom,  a  work  table, 
and  six  chairs.  As  we  were  leaving  the  house, 
Mrs.  Bright,  pointing  to  a  large  basket  she  had 
packed  to  be  sold  at  auction,  said  the  articles 
contained  could  not  be  bought  for  ten  dollars, 
but  she  did  not  expect  they  would  bring  much. 
Without  looking  at  the  things,  we  offered  her 
five  dollars,  which  quite  pleased  her  and  was 
a  fortunate  purchase  for  us.  I  saw  on  the  top  a 
knife  basket  and  something  that  looked  like 
knives  and  forks,  and  so  thought  it  best  to  secure 
the  basket  and  save  the  expense  of  these  need- 
fuls. I  bought  in  St.  Louis,  also,  a  piece  of 
furniture  patch,  some  domestic  cotton  foracom- 
fortable^a  blue  dining-set,  and  a  china  tea-set  ; 
was  about  to  buy  some  table-cloths,  but  found 
that  such  table  linen  as  could  be  purchased  in 
99 


^  l^oman'^  ^torp 


Massachusetts  for  seventy-five  cents  a  yard 
was  selling  in  St.  Louis  for  three  dollars;  so  I 
hoped  again  for  my  box  and  concluded  to  wait 
—  a  tale  to  be  told  about  the  table-cloth. 

To  go  back  to  the  first  night  spent  under  our 
own  roof,  I  recollect  that  the  candles  became 
hard  enough  to  be  pulled  from  the  moulds. 
Four  large  nails  with  their  points  driven  into  a 
square  block  of  wood  served  as  one  candlestick, 
the  other  was  supplied  by  paper  being  wound 
around  the  candle  and  then  inserted  into  the  neck 
of  a  glass  bottle;  this  made  quite  a  display. 
When  our  neighbor  had  departed  and  we  had 
lighted  up  for  the  evening  we  all  owned  up  to 
feeling  very  tired;  so  after  getting  Simpson's 
mattress  spread  on  the  bed-room  floor,  with 
all  the  loose  coverings  of  old  shawls  and  clothes 
we  could  muster,  we  resigned  Joicy  to  her  rest. 
Two  buffalo  robes  spread  on  the  floor  —  where 
a  few  hours  before  had  stood  the  work-bench, 
and  between  which  Loomis  and  Robert  packed 
themselves  with  their  coats  for  pillows  —  fin- 
ished up  our  sleeping  arrangements. 

The  next  morning  we  commenced  unpacking; 
do  not  remember  much  about  it ;  only  how  rich 
I  felt  when  I  descended  into  the  depths  of  Mrs. 
Bright's  clothes  basket,  where  I  found  knives 
and  forks,  iron  spoons,  two  nice  sauce-pans, 
graters,  baking  tins,  spittoons,  and  many  other 
things  that  came  in  play  and  were  useful.  Be- 
fore night  we  had  another  bedstead  put  up  for 
Robert  and  Loomis,  and  the  old  cot  set  up  in 

100 


of  ^ionttt  3^Hinoi^ 


the  loft  for  Joicy.  Hired  a  bed  and  quilt  from 
Mr.  Roimtree,  with  whom  we  had  expected  to 
board.  When  we  sent  for  the  bed  we  found 
they  had  been  blessed  with  a  son,  which  ex- 
plained their  hasty  retreat  from  our  dwelling. 

A  few  years  later  I  was  present  at  the  chris- 
tening of  the  children  by  a  Methodist  minister; 
the  ceremony  was  performed  at  their  own 
home.  Their  names  were  Hiram  Hawkins 
Rountree,  Aaron  Hubbard  Rountree,  Emily 
Alfine  Hawkins  Rountree  —  who  afterwards 
married  Mr.  Shumway — was  the  mother  of 
Hiram,  who  married  Ellen  Holmes.  They 
had  also  a  John,  with  two  or  three  other  names 
attached. 

Mr.  Rountree  was  a  man  of  education,  and 
in  the  earlier  times  in  Illinois  was  considered 
a  great  linguist.  Mrs.  Rountree  was  a  woman 
of  excellent  common  sense,  a  good  Christian, 
and  of  a  most  amiable  temper;  might  have 
taken  a  higher  stand  in  society  had  she  been 
educated. 

One  day  there  had  been  some  goods  brought 
from  St.  Louis,  a  part  of  which  were  for  Mr. 
Rountree;  he  came  for  them  and  your  father 
was  out.  He  seemed  disappointed  that  he 
could  not  know  the  amount  that  had  been  paid 
for  them,  and  although  not  ready  to  settle  the 
bill,  would  like  to  know  the  cost.  I  looked 
and  found  the  bill  of  the  St.  Louis  merchant, 
which  was  receipted.  He  perused  it  approv- 
ingly,   and    then    in    a    patronizing    manner, 

lOI 


a  5^onian'^  ^torp 


asked  "if  I  knew  where  Mr.  Tillson  kept  his 
account  book?  Would  I  bring  it  to  him;  he 
would  make  the  charge."  I  found  the  book 
and  asked  him  for  the  bill,  which  quite  puzzled 
him,  and  he  again  repeated  what  he  wanted 
to  do,  but  I,  as  if  to  save  him  the  trouble,  com- 
menced making  the  charges  myself.  He  looked 
with  blank  amazement  at  my  performance.  At 
last  when  he  could  bear  it  no  longer  he  jumped 
up  and  looking  over  my  shoulder,  said,  "Why 
I  had  no  idea  you  were  such  a  scribe," — my 
scribbling  then  being  somewhat  better  than 
my  pencilings  now — "and  you  have  made  the 
charges  correctly." 

I  had  some  ambition  to  show  off  a  little, 
being  aware  that  the  "white  folks,"  though 
very  friendly  when  I  met  them,  were  much 
perplexed  to  know  what  Tillson 's  wife  found 
to  do.  She  didn't  spin  nor  weave,  and  had 
that  little  Dutch  girl,  and  the  men  helped  her 
to  milk.  They  had  hearn  that  she  sot  up  nights 
to  help  Tillson  write,  but  that  wasn't  much, 
no  how ;  never  seed  her  in  the  *  *  truck  patch ; ' ' 
didn't  believe  she  knowed  how  to  hoe.  I  have 
made  quite  a  digression  in  speaking  of  Mr. 
Rountree  and  family,  and  in  describing  them  I 
give  the  bearing  and  lordliness  of  those  from 
slave-holding  states.  If  they  had  slaves  the 
authority  was  exercised  over  them;  if  not, 
the  wife  was  the 'willing  slave  ;  perhaps  not  so 
much  from  fear  as  from  want  of  knowing  any- 
thing to  assert.     There  would  occasionally  be 

102 


of  pioneer  SPlIinoiiSf 


one  like  Mrs.  Kilpatrick  who  could  advance  her 
own  opinions. 

The  first  few  months'  housekeeping  was 
made  uncomfortable  by  the  Sunday  visiting. 
We  had  no  regular  preaching,  and  with  my 
new  beginnings  in  domestic  duties  and  the 
evenings  —  two  in  each  week — which  I  devoted 
in  copying  letters  for  your  father,  I  found  but 
little  time  for  reading.  The  eastern  mail  came 
in  once  in  two  weeks,  and  your  father  being 
postmaster  he  usually  had  papers  in  every  mail 
from  all  directions,  and  although  they  would 
be  weeks  in  reaching  us  they  brought  the  latest 
intelligence  from  the  civilized  world  and  were 
about  all  I  could  find  time  to  read  during  the 
week.  I  tried  to  have  Sunday  for  books,  when 
I  did  not  go  to  "  preaching, "  which  time,  I 
felt,  was  spent  without  profit  and  instruction, 
and  but  for  example's  sake  would  have  pre- 
ferred a  quiet  day  at  home. 

But  there  were  no  such  Sundays  for  me. 
By  the  time  our  breakfast  was  over  and  our 
morning  work  disposed  of  there  would  be  a 
tremendous  knocking  at  the  door,  accompanied 
by  sonorous  demands  of  "who  keeps  the 
house  ? ' '  Sometimes  with  the  knocking  would 
come,  ** housekeepers  within.?"  sometimes 
nothing  but  a  loud,  drawling,  "h-o-u-s-e- 
k-e-e-p-e-r-sl  "  and  when  the  door  was  opened 
a  backwoodsman  would  walk  in  with  a  big  baby 
on  his  arm,  followed  by  his  wife  with  the 
youngest  in  both  her  arms,  would  introduce  his 
103 


a  ^oman'^  ^torp 


lady,  and  let  us  know  they  had  come  for  a 
day's  visit;  thinking  I  was  "strange  ones 'ere," 
they  reckoned  they  ought  to  get  acquainted. 
Being  few — either  male  or  female  —  who  wore 
any  out-door  garments,  the  women  wore  their 
bonnets  in  the  house  and  added  nothing  on  go- 
ing out  but  a  little  shawl  that  came  about  to  the 
bottom  of  the  waist,  said  w^aist  being  a  very 
short  one.  I  suppose,  living  as  they  did  in 
cabins  without  windows  and  keeping  both  doors 
open  for  the  admittance  of  light — windows 
and  out  of  doors  was  all  the  same  to  them  in 
respect  to  warmth  —  and  having  come  from  a 
more  southern  cHmate,  they  had  never  learned 
the  necessity  of  protection  from  the  cold. 

I  think  during  the  first  three  months  there 
was  rarely  a  Sunday  when  we  were  not  called 
on  to  entertain  some  of  these  families,  who 
came  as  if  to  a  show,  and  would  go  about  the 
house  taking  up  things  and  ask,  "wharfs  this 
'ere  fixin?"  open  the  closet  and  ask  how  we 
sold  plates.  When  informed  they  were  not 
for  sale,  could  not  see  why  we  "wanted  such  a 
mighty  lot,"  "never  seed  so  many  together, 
reckoned  they  cost  a  heap."  The  most  amus- 
ing thing  would  be  their  remarks  at  the  table, 
and  their  petting  the  children  before  coming  to 
the  table.  "Hush  up,  honey,  and  be  good;  see 
thar,  Auntee  Tillson  is  gwine  to  have  dinner 
right  sure.  Reckon  she'll  have  some  sweet- 
ened bread,  cake,  and  all  them  pretty  dishes.  " 
When  they  had  satisfiecf  their  appetites  and 
104 


of  pioneer  S^Uinoi^ 


taken  a  final  smoke  they  would  make  a  move 
to  depart,  and  invite  us  to  go  and  spend  Sun- 
day with  them.  We  would  thank  them,  and 
say  we  would  go  to  see  them  some  week  day, 
we  did  not  visit  on  the  Sabbath.  We  felt  we 
were  very  fortunate  in  breaking  up  the  practice 
without  offending  them.  Of  all  our  Sunday 
visitors,  I  think  but  one  ever  repeated  the 
visit  on  that  day,  and  though  they  were  very 
jealous  and  suspicious  I  never  knew  of  any 
offense  being  given. 

From  the  first  of  January  until  April  there 
was  little  change.  The  mail  was  brought  in 
once  in  two  weeks.  The  mail  carrier  would 
arrive  on  Monday  night  about  sunset,  leave 
the  mail  for  Montgomery  County,  and  proceed 
as  far  as  Colonel  Seward's  on  his  way  to 
Springfield,  that  being  the  northern  terminus 
of  the  mail  route.  Our  evenings  after  receiv- 
ing the  mail  were  the  busiest  of  all  others, 
your  father  opening  and  reading  his  letters 
while  I  regaled  myself  with  the  three  or  four 
weeks'  old  eastern  newspapers.  The  carrier 
returned  on  Thursday  for  the  eastern  mail. 
Your  father's  business  had  become  quite 
extensive,  and  as  it  was  mostly  done  through 
correspondence  with  eastern  landholders  he 
received  a  large  amount  of  letters,  and  he 
generally  answered  as  many  as  was  in  his  power 
during  the  two  days  that  the  carrier  was  gone 
north.  He  kept  a  letter-book  into  which  were 
copied  all  the  letters  sent  from  the  office,  and 
105 


a  l^oman'^  J^torp 


the  task  was  sometimes  pretty  arduous.  Your 
Uncle  Robert  would  commence  in  the  morn- 
ing and  work  diligently,  but  it  was  impossible 
to  keep  up  with  your  father's  rapid  penman- 
ship, so,  as  all  the  letters  had  to  go  into  one 
book  and  I  was  a  fast  writer,  it  became  my 
privilege  to  wield  the  pen  in  the  evening. 
The  evenings  were  long  and  not  unfrequently 
would  we  find  ourselves  among  the  small  hours 
of  Thursday  morning  ere  our  last  letter  was 
disposed  of  and  our  Wednesday  evening's  work 
ended. 

After  we  had  been  about  a  month  at  house- 
keeping Joel  Wright,  who  had  been  on  an  ex- 
ploring trip  through  the  northern  part  of  the 
state,  returned.  As  his  cabin  was  closed  he 
wanted  to  stay  with  us  through  the  winter,  or 
until  he  could  get  a  family  into  his  house  with 
whom  he  could  board;  so  we  took  him  in.  We 
then  had  heard  nothing  of  our  bedding  sent 
by  way  of  New  Orleans,  but  were  weekly 
hoping  that  we  should.  So  as  we  were  not 
abundantly  supplied,  I  undertook  the  business 
of  making  a  comfortable.  For  the  outside  I 
had  the  material,  but  where,  O  where,  was  the 
cotton  to  be  found!  I  knew  everybody  had 
their  * 'cotton  patches"  and  raised  their  own 
cotton,  but  in  trying  to  buy,  found  that  they 
only  picked  it  from  the  seed  in  small  quantities. 
While  I  was  puzzling  myself  what  to  do,  Mr. 
Wright  brought  from  his  farm  some  twenty 
pounds  of  cotton  in  the  seed;  when  separated, 
1 06 


of  pioneer  S^Uinai^ 


two-thirds  would  be  seed  and  the  remaining 
third  cotton.  I  then  commenced  the  arduous 
task  of  separating  the  cotton  from  the  seed, 
and  after  much  labor  and  wear  and  tear  of 
fingers  I  succeeded  in  getting  enough  to  fill  a 
comfortable.  It  had  to  be  carded  and  made 
into  bats  before  it  could  be  used,  and  fortu- 
nately my  maid-of-all-work  knew  how  to  card. 
But  the  cards:  where  were  they  to  be  found? 
After  much  inquiry  I  heard  of  some  one  who 
was  willing  to  lend  her  "kairds"  to  a  Yankee 
woman.  So  the  cotton  was  carded,  after 
about  a  week's  labor  by  Joicy,  and  meanwhile 
Loomis  had  made  a  quilting  frame  and  the 
great  affair  of  making  a  comfortable  was 
accomplished.  The  neighbors  came  in  to  see 
it.  They  had  *'heirn"  that  Tillson's  wife  had 
borrowed  kairds,  "but  reckoned  she  did'nt 
know  how  to  spin  a  draw,"  and  "couldn't 
think  what  she  could  do  with  kairds." 

March  at  last  came  after  a  cheerless  winter, 
and  with  it  the  news  that  our  boxes  and  pack- 
ages were  at  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  River, 
where  they  had  been  lying  all  winter  while  the 
boat  on  which  they  were  shipped  had  been 
undergoing  repairs.  Another  thing  to  relieve 
the  monotony  was  the  commencement  of  an 
addition  to  our  log  house,  to  consist  of  two 
rooms  —  a  parlor  and  bedroom.  They  were 
to  be  framed,  and  joined  to  the  log  house  on 
the  north.  We  also  had  our  kitchen  chimney 
built  and  a  small  window  put  in,  so  that  in  April 
107 


a  Wonian'0  ^torp 


we  moved  our  cooking  utensils  into  the  new 
establishment.  It  stood  about  five  feet  from 
the  main  house  and  a  roof  extended  across, 
making  a  shelter  from  sun  and  rain;  a  plat- 
form to  pass  over  was  also  made.  The  "white 
folks"  thought  we  had  a  "power  of  room," 
and  were  "power  down  well  fixed." 

Just  before  we  were  ready  for  the  occupancy 
of  the  kitchen,  our  Joicy  thought  she  must  go 
back  to  St.  Louis.  She  liked  to  live  with  us. 
We  had  been  ""right  good ' '  to  her,  she  said,  but 
she  never  lived  in  one  place  but  a  few  weeks 
before.  She  moaned — longed  for  a  change. 
Poor  Joicy!  she  could  not  read,  but  was  of 
high  blood  and  bearing ;  said  her  mother  was  a 
cousin  of  Henry  Clay's,  and  when  she  married 
Tarley,  Joicy's  father,  who  was  a  drinker,  her 
relations  did  not  own  her  and  her  father  kept 
getting  poorer-poorer,  and  the  children  got  no 
"larnin."  She  had  a  pretty  face.  Her  ward- 
robe consisted,  besides  shoes  and  stockings,  of 
a  green  flannel  petticoat,  a  calico  dress,  a  white 
dress,  and  a  checked  apron,  in  all  four  pieces. 
When  she  came  from  St.  Louis  she  wore  her 
white  dress  over  her  calico,  which  was  not  in 
good  taste ;  the  stripes  and  figures  of  the  calico 
showing  unbecomingly  through  the  thin  texture 
of  the  white  cambric;  but  when,  about  once 
a  week,  she  would  drop  her  calico  to  be  washed, 
and  put  on  her  white  over  her  green  skirt,  with 
no  lining  above  her  waist  but  what  nature  had 
provided,  and  then  to  see  her  sit  down  on  the 
1 08 


of  pioneer  3  llinoi^ 


floor  with  her  lap  full  of  potatoes  and  turnips 
and  peal  them  for  cooking,  with  the  green 
shading  of  her  dress  below  and  the  pinkie 
development  above,  she  presented  a  picture  I 
cannot  describe. 

So  in  April  I  found  myself  mistress  of  all 
work,  with  our  family  of  four  getting  on  quite 
systematically.  In  order  to  secure  Loomis  for 
our  building  purposes  we  were  obliged  to  make 
him  one  of  our  family,  and  it  was  only  by  dint 
of  close  management  that  we  could  keep  him 
at  his  work.  There  were  so  few  carpenters  in 
the  country  that  every  one  who  wanted  a  door 
for  his  cabin  would  come  to  Loomis,  and  he 
would  always  promise  to  do  their  work  for 
them.  *Poor  Loomis,  he  was  good-natured 
and  could  not  say  no  to  any  request,  and  while 
we  were  waiting  with  impatience  at  the  slow 
progress  of  our  house,  we  had  to  shut  our  eyes 
to  the  little  affairs  such  as  shelves  or  window 
sash  that  were  being  made  for  some  "Sucker's'* 
cabin.  If  we  offended  him  our  last  chance 
for  a  workman  would  be  at  an  end;  and  we 
had  to  see  the  building  materials  that  had  been 
brought  sixty  miles  for  our  house  appropriated 
to  the  use  of  others.  Loomis  had  a  weakness 
for  military  promotion  and  was  eager  to  secure 
the  good  will  of  the  settlers.  His  efforts  were 
crowned  with  success  when  the  next  year  he 
was  commissioned  Major  William  Loomis.  It 
was  more  honor  than  his  poor,  weak  humanity 
could  bear,  and  while  he  expanded  our  work 
109 


a  5^0man'i0f  ^torp 


lagged,  but  there  was  nothing  but  patience  and 
endurance  for  our  deliverance. 

For  about  two  months  I  had  no  servant 
and  Loomis  used  to  get  up  and  make  a  rousing 
fire,  draw  a  bucket  of  cold  water  from  the 
deep  well,  and  Robert  would  go  out  and  milk 
the  two  cows  while  I  prepared  the  breakfast, 
and  though  it  is  but  my  own  humble  opinion, 
I  think  the  cabin  was  as  cleanly  and  orderly  as 
any  other  that  came  within  my  inspection.  I 
used  to  have  black  Eda  come  every  week  to 
do  my  washing,  which  she  would  stay  and 
finish  up  unless  she  "felt  a  hurtin'  in  head," 
or  "mightily  like  ager,"  and  then  she  would 
leave  her  clothes  in  tubs  and  go  "hum,"  the 
finishing  and  cleaning  up  falling  to  my  share. 

In  April  your  father  went  to  Vandalia  and  on 
his  return  brought  a  little  Dutch  girl,  the  best 
thing,  he  said,  that  he  could  find,  and  Oh! 
thought  I.  But  to  the  girl.  She  rode  on  the 
horse  behind  your  father.  She  had  on  a  Ger- 
man blue  calico  dress,  with  a  handkerchief 
tied  over  her  head  and  another  hung  on  her 
arm,  in  which  was  her  wardrobe.  They  arrived 
about  noon,  under  a  scorching  sun.  She  had 
light — nearly  white  —  hair,  with  large,  goggle, 
black  eyes,  while  her  skin  was  as  fair  as  an 
infant's;  the  ride,  however,  of  twenty-eight 
miles  under  a  hot  sun  and  without  a  bonnet 
had  changed  her  face  from  white  to  red,  which, 
with  her  startling  eyes,  gave  her  a  somewhat 
terrific  appearance.     She  said  she  was  "dur- 

IIO 


of  pioneer  S^llinoi^ 


deen"  (thirteen)  years  old,  and  could  do  a 
heaper  of  work  before  she  had  the  agy;  said 
she  had  a  big  agy  cake  —  enlargement  of  the 
liver — but  could  vork  most  uls  well  as  ever. 
From  her  size  I  should  not  have  thought  her 
more  than  ten  years  old.  I  gave  her  some 
dinner,  and  then  sent  her  to  bed  to  get  rested, 
trusting  to  the  future  to  see  whether  I  really  had 
"help,"  or  more  to  take  care  of.  The  poor 
thing,  when  rested,  took  hold  of  work  with  a 
cheerful  willingness,  and  with  such  perfect 
neatness  and  faithfulness  that  I  felt  I  had  in 
her  a  treasure. 

About  this  time  came  court  week,  the  first 
court  that  had  been  held,  after  my  arrival. 
After  breakfast,  as  your  father  was  starting 
for  the  court  house,  two  miles  distant,  he  told 
me  he  should  invite  Starr  and  Mills  home  to 
dinner,  and  having  the  addition  of  a  Baptist 
minister  from  Maine,  who  had  quartered  him- 
self upon  us,  I  had  the  table  set  for  eight, 
with  ample  provisions  for  that  number.  But 
what  was  my  astonishment  when  instead  of  the 
two  invited  guests  they  kept  up  the  cavalcade 
until  fourteen  had  dismounted  in  front  of  the 
house.  Someone  had  told  them  that  we  were 
to  dine  the  court  that  day,  and  without  wait- 
ing for  an  invitation  they  pushed  on,  as  hun- 
gry men  would  instinctively  do.  The  first 
thing  for  me  was  to  repair  to  the  kitchen  and 
put  Doris  in  the  way  of  preparing  a  dish 
of  ham  and  eggs.  Then,  in  the  presence  of 
III 


a  ^oman'^  J^torp 


all  the  bar,  with  Doris'  help  I  lengthened  the 
table,  and  with  much  planning  and  squeezing 
succeeded  in  getting  their  honors  around  the 
board.  The  chickens,  which  would  have  been 
all-satisfying  on  my  first  table,  dwindled  into 
insignificance  on  my  lengthened  board.  The 
vegetables  were  dealt  out  sparingly,  but  thanks 
to  ham  and  eggs  my  distinguished  guests 
seemed  full  and  happy.  My  poor  pot  pudding 
I  had  made  with  such  care  and  satisfaction, 
and  the  exquisite  sauce,  its  accompaniment, 
was  most  sparingly  divided,  much  to  my  mys- 
tification. There  was  some  consolation  in 
perceiving  that  some  of  the  gentlemen  had 
discovered  the  mistake  of  intention,  and  were 
not  a  little  mortified  at  their  position. 

The  court-week  entertainment  brings  to 
mind  another  personage,  the  * '  down  east"  Bap- 
tist preacher  who  came  to  us  one  Saturday  after- 
noon, tired  and  jaded,  his  business  being  to 
inquire  about  a  section  of  land.  Your  father 
invited  him  to  stay  until  Monday,  much  to  my 
inconvenience,  as  I  could  not  think  for  some 
time  how  or  where  I  should  deposit  him  for  the 
night.  But  being  decent  looking,  and  profess- 
ing Godliness — two  things  which  did  not  abound 
in  our  neighborhood  —  I  felt  disposed  to  extend 
whatever  hospitality  I  could.  On  Sunday  he 
went  with  us  to  the  Hard-shell  Baptist  meeting, 
and  was  invited  to  preach.  Comparing  him 
with  Father  Street,  he  was  quite  an  orator, 
though  I  had  a  wicked  feeling  that  he  had  a 

112 


of  pioneer  S^IIinoi^ 


better  capacity  for  committing  and  repeating 
other  ministers'  sermons  than  for  composing 
himself.  Monday  he  was  sick,  threatened  with 
ague,  continued  to  grow  sicker;  and  while  I 
was  hoping  and  watching  for  his  departure, 
your  father  informed  me  that  Plummer  was  a 
carpenter  by  trade,  had  followed  that  calling 
until  called  to  preach  the  Gospel;  that  he  had 
proposed  to  remain  a  while  and  do  some  car- 
penter work  that  we  were  needing,  and  he  had 
agreed  to  employ  him.  O  dear!  thought  I, 
wljat  can  I  do  ?  but  as  the  bargain  was  com- 
pleted, I,  of  course,  had  nothing  to  do  but 
acquiesce.  A  gleam  of  hope  came  in  to  take  off 
some  of  the  disagreeable  in  thinking  that  our 
rooms,  of  which  we  were  sadly  in  want,  might 
thus  be  finished  by  September.  Judge  of  my 
chagrin  when  your  father  told  me  that  Plum- 
mer had  been  telling  him  of  a  new  cheese-press 
that  would  work  admirably,  and  as  we  were  milk- 
ing seven  cows  it  was  a  pity  not  to  have  a  dairy. 
Your  father  seemed  quite  elated  with  the  plan. 
He  knew  nothing  of  the  outlay  for  the  utensils 
needed  in  cheese-making,  nor  the  labor  it  would 
bring  upon  me.  I  had  no  other  help  than  little 
Doris,  who,  poor  thing  !  would  work  until  after 
she  had  washed  her  dinner  dishes  and  made 
her  kitchen  quite  clean,  and  then  get  into  her 
cot,  rolling  herself  up  like  a  caterpillar,  and 
asking  me  to  "  woke  me  up  'ginst  supper  time 
comes." 

About  this  time  William  Porter  came  to  us 
113 


a  Womm'^  ^torp 


sick,  having  chills  and  fever  every  other  day. 
Our  family  then  consisted — besides  your  father, 
Uncle  Robert,  and  myself  —  of  Loomis,  Porter, 
Plummer,  and  Horn,  who  worked  on  the  farm; 
six  hungry  men  to  be  fed  three  times  a  day; 
besides  which  your  father  had  told  all  but  Por- 
ter that  they  could  have  their  washing  done  in 
the  house,  and  my  compassion  for  Porter  — 
who  was  of  another  style  from  the  rest  —  con- 
strained me  to  take  care  of  him.  Plummer, 
besides  his  mechanical  skill  and  clerical  accom- 
plishments, professed  great  taste  in  gardening; 
he  had  brought  some  seeds  from  New  England 
and  as  a  matter  of  favor  had  planted  them  in 
our  garden.  When  he  asked  your  father  to 
go  out  and  look  at  the  growth  of  his  plants  — 
and  which  meant  besides  to  hear  a  long  horti- 
cultural discourse  —  he  would  be  turned  over 
to  me,  as  it  was  something  that  interested 
women  more  than  men.  Plummer  had  a  fond- 
ness for  inviting  company,  and  would  ask  the 
youngest  of  the  settlement  to  come  to  see  him. 
On  such  occasions,  as  also  when  we  had  any 
company,  he  would  ascend  to  the  loft  (his 
dormitory)  and  doffing  his  carpenter's  garb, 
come  down  with  a  gown  on,  and  preside  with 
all  the  dignity  of  a  bishop.  Every  day  he 
grew  more  and  more  odious  to  me;  I  expressed 
it  to  your  father,  who  admitted  that  he  was  dis- 
agreeable, but  exhorted  me  to  better  discipline 
my  feelings  and  not  be  annoyed  by  what  I 
could  not  remedy. 

114 


of  pioneer  S^IIinoi^ 


One  day  your  father  came  home  with  a 
most  woeful  tale  which  was  in  circulation  in 
the  settlement,  and  thought  we  had  better 
send  him  away.  I  had  long  considered  him 
a  weak-minded,  conceited  fop,  and  his  reli- 
gion put  on.  As  I  was  less  prone  then  than 
now  to  show  respect  where  I  could  not  feel  it 
and  not  so  to  smother  contempt  when  dis- 
gusted, the  parson  had  long  perceived  that  I 
at  least  did  not  reverence  him,  however  dull 
his  perceptive  powers  were  in  other  directions. 
Your  father  did  not  tell  him  the  cause  of  his 
dismissal,  but  that  as  our  family  was  large  it 
would  not  be  convenient  for  him  to  remain 
longer,  at  which  his  ire  was  kindled  and  he 
said  he  saw  where  the  shoe  pinched,  throwing 
all  the  responsibility  and  blame  on  me. 

About  that  time  James  Black  (afterwards 
Colonel  Black)  sent  us  word  that  he  was  sick, 
and  should  die  unless  he  could  get  out  of 
Vandalia,  another  matter  of  duty  before  us, 
but  lest  he  should  die  and  his  life  be  required 
at  our  hands,  we  sent  for  him  to  come.  Our 
family  was  made  much  pleasanter  by  the  ex- 
change of  guests.  Our  neighbor  S.,  who  hated 
Black  and  Porter  next  to  the  Tillsons,  made 
himself  busy  in  making  low  and  vulgar  remarks 
about  our  keeping  those  lazy  drones  about  us. 

The  last  of  August  had  come ;  our  chimney 

of  logs  had  been  removed  to  make  way  for 

one  of  brick,  which  was  to  serve  for  both  the 

new   frame   and  the  log  part   of  the   house. 

lis 


a  ^oman'^  ^torp 


There  had  been  a  contract  for  bricks;  they 
were  to  be  dehvered  on  the  first  of  September; 
a  man  in  Greenville  was  to  furnish  them. 
Think  of  our  consternation  when,  at  the  time 
he  was  to  dehver  them,  he  coolly  let  us  know 
that  he  had  given  up  brick-making,  and  there 
were  none  to  be  obtained  within  forty  miles. 
There  was  but  one  alternative,  viz :  to  get 
brickmakers  and  have  a  brickyard  made  at  the 
bottom  of  our  garden,  which  was  speedily  com- 
menced and  rapidly  pushed  forward.  All  the 
men  having  to  be  fed  at  our  table,  we  could 
do  no  other  way. 

Saturday,  September  14,  1823,  Bird,  the 
head  brickman,  pronounced  the  bricks  suffi- 
ciently baked,  nothing  but  to  have  them  cool 
enough  to  handle,  and  then  a  new  chimney  to 
be  commenced,  a  bright  and  cheering  announce- 
ment. A  silver  lining  from  under  the  dark  cloud 
that  had  overshadowed  me,  I  with  a  light  heart 
went  to  work,  and  with  the  aid  of  Doris 
accomplished  wonders  in  the  cake  and  pie  line, 
Doris  occasionally  reminding  me  that  it  was 
Saturday  and  that  the  kitchen  would  need  "a 
helper;  "  heap  of  cleaning,  and  that  hepertins 
to  scrub,  and  "heper  oder  tings  to  do  first  we 
make  supper."  My  work  accomplished,  I  left 
Doris  to  her  loved  task  of  polishing  every  tin, 
and  making  clean  every  inch  of  the  little  log 
kitchen,  and  putting  things  in  order  for  God's 
day,  as  she  called  the  Sabbath.  Her  health 
had  greatly  improved,  and  with  it  her  usefulness. 
J16 


of  pioneer  3^Hinoii9f 


Our  family  was  now  reduced  to  six,  Loomis 
having  gone  to  perform  some  of  his  promised 
labor,  and  Mr.  Black  had  been  invited  to  spend 
a  week  in  the  Rev.  Jesse  Townsend's  family, 
much  to  my  relief.  Just  before  tea  time  W.  H. 
Brown,  who  with  his  wife  had  been  passing  the 
summer  at  her  father's,  rode  up,  with  Harriet 
behind  him,  on  horseback.  There  was  to  be  a 
"big  meeting"  in  Bond  County. 

It  was  then  the  practice  in  the  Presbyterian 
church,  while  the  country  was  so  sparsely  settled, 
to  have  at  each  communion  a  two  days'  meeting 
commencing  on  Friday  night  and  continuing 
through  the  Sabbath.  Ministers  from  different 
parts  of  the  country  were  present,  and  to  the 
Gospel-loving  portion  it  was  a  profitable  season. 
To  the  young  girls  and  boys,  a  display  of  their 
best  garments  was  perhaps  the  absorbing  weak- 
ness; but  the  unscrupulousness  of  the  politi- 
cians, who  attended  these  meetings  with  no 
other  motive  than  the  purpose  of  electioneering 
for  themselves  or  their  friends,  was  not  to  my 
taste.  Mr.  Brown  had  brought  his  wife  to  stay 
with  me,  while  he  with  your  father  would  go  to 
the  Lauthlin  settlement,  sixteen  miles  distant, 
to  attend  the  meeting.  Mr.  Brown  was  not 
the7i  a  Christian  man,  but  was  led  by  politics 
and  worldly  gain ;  still,  he  looked  quite  satisfied 
when  he  told  your  father  he  would  like  to  go 
with  him  to  the  big  meeting.  Judge  Enos,  who 
had  been  to  Washington  and  had  been  appointed 
receiver  of  public  moneys  for  the  Sangamon 
117 


31 5^oman'^  ^torp 


District,  and  was  returning  by  way  of  Mont- 
gomery to  take  Wm.  Porter  as  his  clerk,  also 
came.  Porter  had  been  sick,  and  for  several 
months  had  no  other  home  than  ours,  and 
without  the  means  of  paying  for  a  dose  of 
medicine.  We  had  become  much  interested  in 
him,  and  although  the  arrival  of  another  guest 
sadly  interfered  with  my  limited  arrangements, 
yet  the  prospect  for  him  was  so  encouraging 
that  I  went  with  a  light  heart  to  the  loft,  where 
I  prepared  a  cleanly  bed  for  the  Judge  on  one 
of  the  rude  bedsteads;  the  other  was  left  for 
Robert  and  Porter,  and  another  made  on  the 
floor  for  brickmaker  Bird. 

After  our  guests  had  retired  for  the  night 
and  we  were  about  to  lie  down  a  loud  thump- 
ing came  at  the  kitchen  door,  and  Loomis' 
voice  demanding  admittance,  with  Doris'  per- 
sistent refusal  to  let  him  in,  arrested  our  atten- 
tion. Your  father  went  to  the  door  and  found 
his  neighbor,  Joel  Wright,  holding  by  the  mane 
a  sick  horse,  while  he  and  Loomis  each  had  a 
bundle  of  herbs.  I  had  been  feeling  a  relief 
from  the  absence  of  Loomis  that  evening,  both 
on  account  of  his  uncontrollable  loquacity,  as 
well  as  being  spared  from  witnessing  the  sad 
havoc  that  would  have  come  upon  my  pies. 
Lest  you  may  think  me  unduly  careful  of  my  pies, 
I  will  try  at  some  other  time  to  give  you  the 
particulars  of  my  first  pumpkin-pie  baking.  It 
seems  Loomis  had  gone  to  spend  the  night 
with  Wright,  and  finding  Wright's  horse  sick 
ii8 


of  pioneer  S^Ilinoi^ 


had  prescribed  a  decoction  of  prairie  herbs, 
and  proposed  to  Wright  to  come  to  our  kitchen 
and  boil  the  same,  telhng  him  that  he  would 
find  everything  there  convenient  for  their  use. 
Your  father,  of  course,  bade  them  welcome  to 
the  kitchen  and  all  that  was  in  it,  referring 
them  to  Doris  for  whatever  they  might  need. 
Doris,  who  was  always  telling  how  **plasum 
and  lafum"  —  pleasant  and  laughing — Mr. 
Tillson  was,  stoutly  remonstrated  against  having 
the  herbs  being  brought  on  her  clean  floor, 
and  the  boiler,  that  we  would  need  for  wash- 
ing on  Monday,  made  filthy  from  the  boiling 
of  the  weeds,  and  her  tin  dippers  and  pans 
used  which  she  had  just  polished  and  displayed 
each  on  its  own  particular  nail  on  the  kitchen 
wall.  Besides,  there  would  be  **heper"  folks 
to  get  breakfast  for,  and  tomorrow  was  God's 
day;  "God's  book  say  not  to  work  on  that 
day. ' '  But  permission  had  been  given,  and  the 
work  commenced.  I  found  myself  too  sick  and 
tired  from  Saturday's  effort  to  sleep,  so  I  got 
up  and  sat  by  my  little  window,  opposite  the 
kitchen  door,  so  near  that  I  was  obliged  to  be 
the  hearer  of  more  than  I  could  wish.  As  the 
morning  was  chilly,  and  but  one  fire-place  on 
the  premises,  I  repaired  early  to  the  kitchen 
and  with  Doris  put  things  to  rights  again,  and 
had  breakfast  in  progress  before  any  of  the 
guests  came  to  the  door  to  ask  permission  to 
put  their  feet  to  the  fire.  Judge  Enos  first  put 
his  head  in  and  asked  to  be  admitted  to  the 
119 


91  ^oman'^  ^torp 


culinaries,  and  one  after  another  until  the  dining 
room  was  quite  deserted. 

After  breakfast  Judge  Enos  and  Porter 
started  for  Springfield,  Mr.  Brown  and  Mr. 
Tillson  for  the  Bond  County  meeting,  leaving 
Mrs.  Brown  and  myself  alone.  Before  the 
next  morning  we  had  another  visitor.  Our 
dear  Charley  opened  his  eyes  upon  the  rough 
cabin  walls,  and  with  his  chubby  fists  in  his 
mouth  he  looked  —  as  Mother  Kilpatrick  de- 
clared—  as  if  he  was  two  months  old  and  knew 
us  all.  We  felt  we  had  a  precious  gift,  but 
the  way  to  take  care  of  it  was  the  puzzle.  It 
was  the  fifteenth  of  September,  the  nights 
cool  and  chilly,  and  the  days  too  cool  to  expose 
a  thing  so  tender  to  the  rough  blasts.  We 
had  a  sheet-iron  stove  set  in  the  wall  between 
the  bed-rooms;  when  the  wind  favored,  we 
could  kindle  a  fire  to  dress  the  baby,  but  when 
adverse  winds  prevailed  we  had  him  rolled 
in  a  blanket  and  taken  to  the  kitchen  to  be 
dressed.  The  toilet  was  soon  made,  as  the 
western  women  felt  that  water  was  a  deadly 
application  for  babies.  They  kept  their  babies' 
heads  covered  with  a  thick  calico  cap  until 
they  were  several  months  old,  in  which  time  a 
black  surface  would  form  and  cover  the  scalp. 
They  would  then  commence  a  season  of  clean- 
ing by  saturating  the  head  with  either  hog  or 
"bar's"  (bear)  grease,  and  then  as  it  would 
come  loose,  pick  off  the  black  coating.  As  it 
would  usually  come  off  in  large  blotches,  it 

120 


of  pioneer  S^IIinoi^ 


gave  a  sad,  leopard-like  appearance  to  the  little 
**  honey." 

Mrs.  Kilpatrick  offered  her  services  as  nurse 
and  stayed  with  me  two  weeks,  and  rendered  all 
the  assistance  that  she  knew  and  felt  to  be 
necessary,  and  did  many  things  that  I  have 
no  doubt  she  deemed  unnecessary.  She  asked 
me  the  first  morning,  after  I  had  taken  a  cup 
of  coffee  with  some  light  bread  crumbled  into 
it,  what  she  should  get  for  my  dinner;  had 
heard  the  Yankee  women  dieted  at  such  times; 
for  herself,  she  always  took  pork  and  cabbage 
for  her  first  meal.  I  mention  this  to  show 
her  ideas  of  nursing  the  sick,  which  extended 
into  all  her  other  ways  of  management;  yet 
she  was  kind,  and  probably  exercised  much 
forbearance  in  gratifying  the  notions  of  a 
Yankee. 

During  the  time  she  was  with  me  the  chim- 
ney had  been -built,  Mr.  Black  had  returned 
from  the  Townsends,  and  I,  with  a  baby  two 
weeks  old,  was  again  reinstated  at  my  family's 
head,  said  family  consisting  of  five  men,  and  with 
no  other  help  than  poor  little  Doris.  After 
about  a  week  I  began  to  give  out,  and  your 
father  went  around  the  settlement  until  he  found 
a  girl.  I  asked  her  what  she  could  do.  She 
said  she  "tuck  keer  of  the  truck  patch  in  sum- 
mer, and  milked  the  cows  and  spinned  right 
smart  in  winter. ' '  I  asked  her  how  old  she  was. 
"Tse  older  nor  I'se  good,"  was  the  reply,  I 
found  very  few  parents  or  children  knew  their 


a.  l^oman'^  ^torp 


ages.  She  said  her  mother  thought  she  could 
"yearn"  six  bits  a  week  at  spinning,  and  she 
must  have  that  for  house-work.  She  could 
milk  ** right  smart,"  and  bring  in  wood,  make 
fires,  and  some  few  things  to  make  Doris'  work 
a  little  easier,  but  on  the  whole  we  felt  relieved 
when  at  the  end  of  two  weeks  she  went  back  to 
her  mammy.  I  did  not  hear  of  her  again  until 
some  ten  years  afterwards,  when  there  was  a 
great  scarcity  of  eggs  and  the  farmers  were  sav- 
ing all  they  could  for  the  St.  Louis  market.  As 
I  was  about  to  give  Bela  White  and  Miss  Strat- 
ton  a  wedding  entertainment,  I  dispatched  a  lad 
through  the  country  to  get  eggs  for  my  wedding 
cake.  He  had  but  little  success  until  he  came 
to  Forehand's,  and  was  there  refused,  but  when 
on  leaving  Mrs.  Forehand  found  out  it  was  for 
me  he  wanted  them  she  called  him  back  and  said 
"that  ever  since  her  Jane  lived  with  us  she 
had  alius  meaned  to  do  us  some  gud.  She  alius 
thought  a  scandalous  heap  on  Tillson's  wife, 
and  she  would  send  me   some  eggs  if  Jarvis 

—  her  husband  —  didn't  like  it."  With  the 
strong  feeling  that  prevailed  among  the  poor 
whites  at  that  time  against  the  Yankees,  I 
could  never  understand  how  it  was  that  we  lived 
so  peaceably  among  them,  and  with  all  the  trials 
of  being  in  such  a  community  we  had  the  con- 
fidence and  good  will  of  most  of  them,  which 
were  manifested  in  various  ways. 

Jesse  Buzan — who  rented  our  bottom-field 

—  had  a  wife  whose  great  enjoyment  seemed 


of  pioneer  Sfllinoi^ 


to  consist  in  coming  every  day  to  inspect. 
She  was  taken  quite  by  surprise  when  one  day 
I  offered  her  a  piece  of  what  I  told  her  was 
Yankee  pie.  Slie  looked  blank  and  said,  **I 
didn't  think  you  would  say  the  like  of  that; 
I  alius  knowed  youens  were  all  Yankees,  but 
Billy  said  'don't  let  on  that  we  know  it,  kase 
it'll  jest  make  them  mad.*  "  I  told  her  I  was 
proud  to  be  called  a  Yankee,  and  that  she  need 
never  fear  to  speak  of  it.  She  looked  incredu- 
lous, and  then  said,  **  Billy  and  I  have  always 
found  you  jess  so,  but  some  folks  say  they 
have  been  here  when  Yankees  come  in,  and 
you  talk  a  heap  of  things  that  you  don't  say 
to  us."  **  Do  they  say  I  talk  against  anyone.?  " 
"  O  no,  not  that;  but  you  use  a  heap  of  words 
to  Yankees  that  you  don't  when  you  talk  to  us. 
They  say,  too,  you  put  a  lot  of  nasty  truck  in 
your  bread.  It  is  what  you  keep  in  a  bottle, 
purlass,  I  believe,  is  the  name,  and  they  say 
it  is  full  of  dead  flies,  and  bugs,  and  cricket 
legs."  I  brought  forward  my  little  bottle  of 
dissolved  pearl  ash,  looking  so  clear  and  pure, 
and  showed  it  to  her,  but  it  seemed  hard  to 
give  up  her  old  prejudice. 

November  i6,  iSyi. 

I  have  not,  as  I  hoped  to  do,  been  able  to 
write  much  of  late,  and  find  that  what  I  have 
written  only  brings  me  a  year  into  my  western 
experience,  and  will  in  future  try  to  avoid 
prosiness  and  state  things  as  they  suggest 
123 


a  Woman'^  ^torp 


themselves.  We  lived  on  in  the  usual  way 
until  the  July  of  1824,  when  our  new  parlor 
and  a  sleeping-rt)om  above  was  so  far  finished 
as  to  admit  of  occupancy,  and  was  meekly 
furnished  to  serve  the  demands  of  comfort  and 
to  avoid  the  censure  and  envy  of  the  multitude. 
After  we  had  settled  ourselves  again  a  little 
more  comfortable  as  to  house  accommodations, 
your  father  suggested  the  plan  of  opening 
a  small  store,  to  bring  from  St.  Louis  such 
goods  as  the  natives  were  needing  and  to  take 
in  exchange  butter,  honey,  beeswax,  maple 
sugar,  and  such  things  as  they  could  raise.  He 
thought  it  would  be  a  convenience  and  benefit 
to  the  neighborhood;  but  his  strongest  induce- 
ment was  to  get  up  something  that  would 
interest  his  brother.  Robert  did  not  like  the 
business  in  his  office  as  he  had  hoped,  and 
did  not  feel  interested  in  farming.  "He  thought 
there  was  a  clerkship  in  a  store  at  Halifax  he 
could  get,  and  wanted  to  go  back.  Your  father 
did  not  want  him  to  return  dissatisfied;  nor 
did  he  feel  that  it  would  be  the  best  move  for 
him,  and  as  a  matter  of  encouragement  pro- 
posed the  store  to  Robert  and  suggested  to 
me  that  we  should  give  up  our  two  little  bed- 
rooms and  use  our  new  room,  our  parlor,  as  a 
bedroom  until  we  could  build  another.  It  was 
a  sad  inconvenience  to  me,  but  I  believe  I  did 
not  object,  and  tried  to  make  things  go  as  well 
as  the  nature  of  the  case  would  permit .  Robert 
seemed  to  enjoy  the  preparation,  and  was  quite 
124 


of  pioneer  S^llinoi^ 


busy  in  making  arrangements  for  receiving  and 
packing  the  butter  for  a  few  months,  but  finally 
it  lost  its  charm  and  homesickness  again  took 
possession  of  his  mind,  and  when  customers 
came  I  found  it  easier  to  go  in  and  wait  upon 
them  than  to  look  for  and  find  Robert.  So  I 
had  quite  an  experience  in  mercantile  life,  and 
in  keeping  accounts  with  the  Suckers. 

The  next  year,  the  winter  of  1824,  the  brick 
house  at  the  county  seat — Hillsboro — was 
commenced,  and  our  arrangements  made  for 
renting  the  farm.  The  house  was  to  be  built  by 
contract  —  a  one-story  brick  house.  The  reason 
of  our  giving  up  our  abode  at  the  farm,  where 
your  father  had  expected  to  remain,  was  a 
dispute  that  had  been  going  on  between  Colonel 
Seward  and  the  county  commissioners  about 
the  county  seat.  It  had  been  located  on  the 
west  side  of  Shoal  Creek,  adjoining  Colonel 
Seward's  farm,  and  but  a  mile  from  our  house, 
and  had  been  named  Hamilton,  after  Hamil- 
ton, Ohio,  Colonel  Seward's  former  place  of 
residence .  Things  worked  smoothly  for  a  while, 
until  the  misunderstanding  with  the  Colonel. 
Then  there  was  a  petition  to  the  legislature  and  a 
new  location.  The  county  seat  was  changed 
from  the  east  to  the  west  side  of  the  creek. 
Your  father,  being  postmaster,  was  obliged  to 
move  the  post  office  to  the  county  seat.  Mr. 
Rountree,  who  was  clerk  of  court,  was  obliged 
to  keep  his  office  there  also;  so  he  —  Mr. 
Rountree — put  up  a  small  log  cabin  for  his 
125 


31  Wormn'^  ^torp 


office  and  your  father  made  him  deputy  post- 
master, to  deliver  letters  between  the  arrival 
of  the  mails.  Not  far  from  that  time  the  mails 
began  to  arrive  once  a  week,  and  it  was  only 
necessary  for  your  father  to  be  there  and 
receive  them  and  make  them  up  to  be  sent 
away. 

It  was  nearly  two  miles  from  our  house,  how- 
ever, to  the  office,  and  in  winter  the  creek 
would  be  so  flooded  that  it  was  almost  im- 
possible for  him  to  cross.  Indeed,  it  was  a 
dangerous  performance  at  best.  One  night 
the  mail  had  been  delayed  by  high  waters  be- 
tween Vandalia  and  Hillsboro,  and  he  had  to 
cross  the  creek  in  the  dark,  with  the  water 
coming  up  to  the  saddle.  He  came  home  com- 
pletely drenched.  After  he  had  got  himself 
into  dry  clothing  and  eaten  his  supper,  he  told 
me  that  he  had  that  day  seen  Dickerson,i^  of 
Vandalia,  and  had  employed  him  to  put  up  a 
brick  building  that  would  serve  for  an  office, 
store,  and  post  office.  The  building  was  to 
have  two  rooms.  I  told  him  if  he  would  put 
up  four  rooms  instead  of  two  I  would  take  the 
baby  and  go  there  to  live,  for  I  was  tired  of 
the  danger  to  which  he  was  exposed  in  crossing 
that  creek  at  all  times  of  the  night  and  in  all 
stages  of  water. 

I  spoke  from  the  impulse  of  my  feelings  at 

^^ According  to  W,  H.  Perrin's  History  of  Bond 
and  Montgomery  Counties  (Chicago,  1882),  the  builder 
of  Tillson's  house  was  one  John  Nickerson. 
126 


of  pioneer  S^llinoi^ 


the  time,  not  thinking  that  anything  would  ever 
come  from  it.  He  sat  and  looked  in  the  fire 
for  about  half  an  hour,  then  went  to  his  desk, 
brought  a  sheet  of  paper,  took  another  himself, 
and  said:  **I  have  been  thinking  over  what 
you  said  about  moving  into  town,  and  now  I 
will  draw  a  plan  of  a  house  and  you  may  draw 
another  and  we  will  compare  and  decide  on 
what  kind  of  a  building  to  put  up.  So  we  both 
went  to  work,  and  each  drew  a  plan,  and  then 
compared  and  changed  and  settled  upon  what 
both  thought  would  be  about  right,  and  before 
we  went  to  bed  had  the  business  all  decided, 
a  thing  that  neither  of  us  had  thought  of  three 
hours  before. 

I  will  give  you  a  drawing,  showing  the  plan 
of  the  first  brick  house  ever  built  in  Mont- 
gomery County,  or  within  twenty  miles  of  it. 
This  was  the  winter  of  1824-25.  Dickerson 
commenced  his  brickyard  in  the  early  spring 
of  '25,  and  promised  a  house  ready  for  occu- 
pancy by  the  spring  following,  '26 ;  but  alas  for 
promises.  Dickerson  was  a  smart  business 
man,  a  gentlemanly  fellow,  but  by  some  mis- 
chance he  was  owing  more  than  he  had  the 
means  of  paying,  and  your  father  was  obliged 
to  take  a  bill  of  sale  of  all  the  bricks  that  were 
being  made  lest  Dickerson's  creditors  should 
claim  them,  and  thereby  we  should  lose  our 
house.  The  original  plan  was  for  a  one-story 
cottage.  Your  father  came  in  one  day  and 
asked  if  I  would  object  to  having  it  made  two 
127 


31  a^oman'^  ^torp 


stories,  giving  as  a  reason  that  he  had  already 
advanced  more  for  Dickerson's  debts  than 
would  cover  the  expense  of  a  one-story  house. 
The  thing  seemed  so  formidable  that  it  was 
quite  an  alarm.  A  two-story  brick  house 
among  the  log  cabins,  it  would  never  do. 
What  would  the  natives  say .''  And  how  should 
I  feel  to  have  the  care  of  such  a  mansion.? 
But  the  thing  was  decided  upon  and  your 
father  seemed  wonderfully  pleased. 

In  October  of  1825  another  noble  boy  was 
given  us.  I  had  occupied  my  parlor  for  a  bed- 
room, and  John  was  much  more  comfortably 
housed  and  lodged  than  was  his  elder  brother, 
who  was  two  years  his  senior.  I  had  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Townsend,  who  was  with 
me  and  remained  until  John  was  a  week  old. 
She  had  Julia  —  afterwards  Mrs.  Hinckley  — 
with  her.  There  was  but  three  days  difference 
in  the  ages  of  Charley  and  Julia,  and  the  new 
baby  was  to  them  a  most  wonderful  event. 
Julia  said  'he  was  her  ^'bubber, "  and  she 
would  have  him  to  help  "Pater  Willie  make 
tacks' '  —  hay  stacks.  Charley  would  get  angry 
and  cry,  because  if  Pater  Willie  had  booboo 
Don,  he  would  have  no  bubber.  When  Mrs. 
Townsend  went  home,  Rosetta —  Eliza  Braley 's 
mother  —  came  and  spent  the  winter  with  me. 
She  was  only  thirteen  years  old,  but  until  I 
could  get  out  of  my  room  was  the  only  house- 
keeper I  had.  I  had  old  Black  Lucy  in  the 
kitchen,  but  she  could  do  nothing  out  of  it. 
128 


of  pioneer  S^llinoiie? 


She  could  cook  her  three  meals  and  bring  them 
into  the  dining  room,  and  do  the  family  wash- 
ing. Whatever  else  was  done  had  to  be  done 
by  Rosetta  or  myself,  as  I  gained  strength 
to  go  about,  but  there  was  more  left  undone 
than  done  for  awhile. 

The  next  year,  th6  October  of  1826,  I  had 
promised  Caleb  and  Lucy  a  vaca^tion,  or,  as 
the  negroes  called  it,  a  "long  broad,"  their 
term  for  a  long  visit.  The  time  I  had  arranged 
for  their  "broad"  was  when  your  father  and 
Uncle  Robert  were  to  be  absent,  and  I  expected 
to  have  no  family  but  myself  and  th^  two  child- 
ren ahd  a  Miss  Seymour,  who  had  a  few  months 
before  come  into  the  settlement.  She  was  a 
homesick  girl;  had  come  from  North  Carolina 
with  her  brother's  family  and  her  father,  who 
was  an  old,  broken  down  Irish  gentleman,  a 
devout  Christian,  and  of  higher  cultivation 
than  his  children.  We  had  besides  Caleb  and 
Lucy  a  white  boy,  who  was  indispensable  to 
me  as  a  house  servant. 

Your  father  had  been  very  busy  for  several 
days  preparing  papers  which  he  was  to  send 
off  by  your  Uncle  Robert  to  Vandalia,  and 
after  he  left  was  getting  ready  to  go  to  Edwards- 
ville  to  act  as  one  of  the  commissioners  for  the 
closing  up  of  the  old  bank  at  that  place,  but 
was  suddenly  taken  ill,  and  the  morning  he 
was  to  leave  found  him  in  bed  with  a  raging 
fever  and  a  delirium  which  was  truly  distress- 
ing. He  imagined  the  fringes  on  the  window 
129 


a  5^0man'^  ^torp 


curtains  were  rattlesnakes,  and  imagined  it  to 
be  my  duty  to  keep  them  from  the  bed.  Miss 
Seymour  had  a  boil  on  her  foot  and  could  not 
wear  a  shoe,  and  instead  of  being  a  help  was 
a  decided  bother.  Her  foot  being  first  and 
foremost,  and  indeed  all  she  could  talk  about, 
I  found  myself  in  ofie  of  the  tight  places,  not 
the  tight  pl^ce,  for  I  found  too  many  such. 
Besides  my  performances  in  the  kitchen  as 
cook,  and  attendance  on  all  the  "Suckers" 
that  came  to  the  store,  measuring  cotton  cloth 
and  linsey,  weighing  coffee,  indigo,  and  mad- 
der—  or  as  they  called  it,  mather  —  and  in  ex- 
change for  which  would  be  the  weighing  of 
butter,  beeswax,  honey,  and  counting  of  eggs; 
chickens  they  sold  by  the  "par"  (pair). 

When  my  mercantile  labor  was  ended,  and 
I  released  from  my  duties  behind  the  counter, 
it  would  be  quite  a  circumstance  not  to  find 
my  year-old  baby  crying  for  mamma,  or  my 
three-year-old  boy  up  to  his  elbow  in  mischief, 
or  something  burnt  in  the  kitchen;  for  Willis, 
our  boy,  though  indispensable  in  my  house- 
keeping, was  but  an  eye-servant,  and  as  out- 
door occupations  were  more  in  accordance 
with  his  taste,  would  find  himself  under  the 
necessity  of  canvassing  the  hay-mow  for  eggs 
or  feeding  the  chickens  while  the  things  left  in 
his  care  in  the  kitchen  would  be  most  sadly 
charred.  The  customers  gone,  the  babies  peace- 
ful, Willis  called  in,  the  hens  driven  out  of 
the  kitchen,  with  time  only  to  hear  a  passing 
130 


of  pioneer  S^llinoi^ 


remark  from  Sarah  as  to  the  condition  of  her 
"fut"  (foot),  and  then  I  was  ready  to  assume 
the  duties  of  nurse,  your  father  expressing  his 
surprise  that  I  would  stay  away  so  long  and 
trying  to  impress  me  with  the  importance  of 
staying  in  the  room  lest  he  might  want  some- 
thing in  my  absence,  and  a  solemn  charge  to 
keep  Sarah  and  the  children  out  of  the  room. 
One  day  he  seemed  more  comfortable,  and 
told  me  that  I  must  write  some  letters  that 
should  be  sent  away  the  next  morning.  So 
after  giving  Sarah  a  charge  to  watch  Willis 
and  see  that  he  took  care  of  the  children,  and 
that  he  did  not  run  off  to  the  stable  or  leave 
the  kitchen  door  open  to  the  occupancy  of  the 
hens  or  pigs,  I  gathered  my  writing  material 
and  repaired  to  the  bed  side,  where  I  was  to 
act  as  amanuensis.  I  at  first  had  to  write  to 
each  bank  commissioner,  stating  his  sickness 
and  inability  to  be  with  them;  then  a  long  letter 
to  Stephen  B.  Munn  of  New  York,  and  also 
some  others.  The  writing  finished,  I  had  to 
send  Willis  to  the  office  with  the  letters  to  be 
mailed.  He  returned,  bringingback  the  letters, 
and  informed  me  that  Mr.  Rountree  was  away 
and  that  **  Mrs.  Rountree  did  not  knownpthing, 
no  how,  about  postoffice."  Your  father  then 
sent  back  to  the  office,  two  miles,  to  have  all 
the  letters  brought  to  him  that  had  been  put 
in  the  office  the  previous  week,  and  to  me  was 
assigned  the  task  of  making  up  the  mail.  It 
was  no  small  task,  either,  for  as  he  had  for- 

131 


91  ^oman'^  ^torp 


gotten  to  send  for  the  way-bills  —  which  are 
printed  blanks  to  be  filled  out  and  put  with 
each  package — I  had  to  make  out  the  whole 
thing,  way-bills  and  all,  in  regular  postoffice 
order.  After  a  few  days  your  Uncle  Robert 
returned  and  we  immediately  sent  him  to 
Greenville  for  a  physician;  it  being  twenty 
miles,  it  was  an  all-day's  ride.  I  had  not  sent 
before  because  Dr.  Newhall,  our  family  physi- 
cian, was  not  in  Greenville,  and  your  father 
did  not  profess  confidence  in  any  other,  so  I 
had  to  carry  him  through  a  course  of  treatment 
the  best  I  could,  though  with  fearful  forebodings 
as  to  whether  I  was  pursuing  the  right  course. 
The  anxiety  and  responsibility  I  felt  about  his 
sickness  was  more  than  all  the  labor  and  care 
with  which  I  was  burdened. 

After  he  had  consented  to  have  a  doctor, 
and  Robert  had  returned  with  Dr.  Drake  and 
he  had  approved  of  my  treatment,  I  felt  wonder- 
fully relieved;  a  heavy  responsibility  had  been 
lifted  from  my  poor,  tired-out  body  and  mind. 
The  doctor  stayed  two  days  and  watched  the 
progress  of  his  convalescence,  and  then  said 
he  must  go  home,  as  he  had  other  patients  re- 
quiring his  care.  Your  father  remonstrated 
stoutly  against  his  leavang,  and  it  was  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  he  could  bring  him  to  any 
reasonable  understanding  as  to  the  necessity 
of  his  going  home.  When  my  mind  was  more 
at  ease  I  began  to  feel  how  thoroughly  worn 
down  and  tired  I  had  become,  and  shall  never 


132 


of  ^ionttt  '^\lxmi$ 


forget  the  sensation  it  gave  me  to  see  little 
Julia's  green  hood  coming  through  the  gate, 
and  holding  it  open  for  her  mother.  To  those 
who  have  never  known  the  loneliness  that  had 
encircled  me  for  the  few  past  weeks,  my  feel- 
ings could  not  be  described.  The  sight  of  a  face 
beaming  with  kindness  as  was  Mother  Town- 
send's  when  she  came  in  and  said,  "And  why 
didn't  thee  let  me  know.?  "  Such  friends  and 
such  acts  of  friendship  can  never  be  forgotten, 
nor  can  they  be  understood  by  those  who  have 
not  been  in  like  isolation. 

Mrs.  Townsend  spent  a  week  with  me,  and 
took  John — who  was  about  a  year  old  —  to 
sleep  with  her  and  Julia.  Ever  after  his  father 
was  taken  sick  he  seemed  to  have  a  horror  of 
everybody;  would  not  let  Sarah  touch  him,  or 
do  the  least  thing  for  him;  he  seemed  to  feel 
that  something  was  wrong,  as  if  a  perfect 
terror  had  taken  hold  of  him.  Through  the  day 
he  would  hold  on  to  the  skirts  of  my  dress  as 
I  passed  from  room  to  room;  then  at  night  I 
had  to  take  him  in  my  arms  and  lie  down  on  the 
bed  beside  your  father,  and  if  obliged  to  get  up 
and  wait  upon  him,  John  would  wake  and  cling 
to  me  with  such  a  frenzied  cry  that  I  would  be 
obliged  to  carry  him  about  in  my  arms  until  I 
could  get  him  quieted  enough  to  lie  down.  It 
seemed  a  wonderful  release  when  I  could  give 
him  up  to  Mother  Townsend  and  undress  and 
go  to  bed  at  night,  a  thing  I  had  not  done  for 
more  than  a  week.  Mrs.  Townsend  did  not 
133 


91  Woman'^  ^torp 


leave  me  until  Caleb  and  Lucy  returned;  the 
children  were  happy  and  pleased  to  have  them 
back;  and  your  father  getting  so  as  to  sit  up 
a  little,  when  we  heard  that  your  Uncle  Charles 
was  on  his  way  to  Illinois. 

It  had  been  four  years  since  I  left  my  New 
England  home  and  in  that  time  I  had  seen  no 
face  that  I  had  ever  known  before,  excepting 
your  father's  and  Uncle  Robert's,  and  it  was 
with  no  little  exciting  interest  that  I  looked 
forward  to  his  arrival.  When  I  left  home  he 
was  a  lad  of  eighteen,  in  a  store  in  Boston. 
Four  years  had  brought  him  to  be  a  handsome 
young  man  of  twenty-two.  We  had  a  happy 
meeting.  Charles  seemed  wonderfully  pleased 
with  the  children,  and  they  with  him;  but  as 
they  had  never  seen  but  one  uncle  they  refused 
to  acknowledge  him  as  such,  and  would  say, 
"Robert  is  my  uncle." 

In  speaking  of  your  father's  requirements 
when  he  was  sick,  it  might  seem  to  those  who 
did  not  know  his  kind  heart  that  his  was  a 
difficult  spirit  to  contend  with.  I  know  not 
why  it  is,  but  have  observed  it  frequently  that 
when  a  difficult  and  uproarious  case  of  human- 
ity is  prostrated  by  sickness  it  becomes  gentle 
and  submissive  and  exhibits  a  lamb-like  spirit. 
Your  father  in  health  was  amiable  and  mild, 
and  had  no  love  for  exercising  authority  over 
others,  but  in  sickness  he  understood  every 
duty  of  a  nurse  and  was  faithful  in  seeing 
that  it  was  performed.     As  soon  as  he  was 

134 


of  pioneer  S^llinoi^ 


able  to  attend  to  business  came  the  prepara- 
tion for  the  land  sales  at  Vandalia.  The  sales 
were  of  lands  on  which  the  taxes  had  not  been 
paid.  They  commenced  early  in  the  winter 
and  continued  for  about  two  months,  a  certain 
number  being  put  up  every  day  and  most  of 
them  bought  in  for  the  amount  of  the  taxes. 
The  lands  sold  were  mostly  soldiers'  bounty 
lands,  and  owned  by  persons  in  the  eastern 
states.  The  yards  of  land  lists  that  had  to  be 
copied  before  the  sales  brought  another  season 
of  hurry,  and  as  I  could  write  then  with  a 
better  hand  than  I  now  do,  and  quite  rapidly, 
I  was  called  into  the  business,  and  our  evenings 
were  often  prolonged  to  the  morning  hours. 

After  your  father  started  for  Vandalia,  tak- 
ing your  Uncle  Robert  with  him  to  assist  in 
his  writing,  I  commenced  preparations  for 
my  eastern  visit,  to  which  I  had  been  looking 
forward  for  the  last  four  years,  and  as  the 
whole  preparation  for  leaving  home,  providing 
a  home  for  Caleb  and  Lucy  in  our  absence, 
and  of  getting  a  comfortable  outfit  for  your 
father,  myself,  and  the  children,  devolved  up- 
on me,  1  found  myself  fully  occupied.  Mrs. 
Townsend  helped  me  some,  but  as  her  daugh- 
ter, Rosetta,  was  to  go  with  us,  she  had  her 
wardrobe  to  prepare.  Such  a  thing  as  hiring 
a  day's  sewing  was  then  unheard  of  in  that 
region.  A  week  before  we  started  eastward 
our  furniture  was  removed  to  our  new  house 
and  packed  in  one  of  the  rooms.  In  another 
135 


%  ^oman'^  ^torp 


room  the  office  furniture  was  deposited,  the 
office  to  be  kept  open,  your  Uncles  Robert  and 
Charles  acting  as  land-agents  and  store-keepers. 
We  had  a  cabin  built  for  Caleb  and  Lucy  not 
far  from  the  new  house,  and  left  them  with  a 
barrel  of  flour,  corn  meal  and  bacon,  and  coffee 
and  sugar  sufficient  for  the  six  months  that  we 
expected  to  be  absent. 

The  day  before  we  left  Caleb  came  to  us  with 
one  of  his  sanctimonious  faces  that  he  could 
put  on  whenever  he  wanted  to  carry  any  point, 
and  after  a  profound  bow  and  a  speech  of  negro 
blarney,  made  known  his  request  that  your 
father  would  give  him  something  to  show  that 
he  was  a  free  man;  that  he  wanted  to  live  and 
die  with  us  and  the  dear  children;  but  life  was 
onsartain,  and  we  might  not  live  to  come 
back,  and  then  he  and  Lucy  would  have  to  be 
sold  like  other  niggers. 

The  law  of  the  state  was  very  hard  on  those 
who  liberated  slaves,  requiring  them  to  give 
bonds  for  the  good  behavior  of  the  negro,  and 
should  they  become  chargeable  to  the  state  for 
their  support  those  who  had  liberated  them  had 
to  meet  the  expenses.  When  Governor  Coles 
went  to  Illinois,  he  entered  a  quarter  section 
of  land  and  took  with  him  all  the  slaves  he  had 
inherited  from  his  father's  estate  in  Virginia 
and  gave  them  their  freedom  and  a  home  on 
the  prairie  land  he  had  provided  for  them,  but 
had  not  given  bonds  to  the  state  that  they 
should  not  be  chargeable ;  had  intended  to  do  so, 
136 


of  pioneer  S^Hinoi^ 


but  neglected  it  up  to  the  time  he  was  nominated 
as  a  candidate  for  governor.  Party  feehng  ran 
very  high  at  that  time,  and  a  determination 
among  the  southern  portion  of  the  inhabitants 
to  have  the  constitution  changed  and  slavery 
admitted  to  the  state  was  carried  to  a  great 
length.  Mr.  Coles,  who  had  been  born  in  Vir- 
ginia and  always  lived  among  slaves,  had  come 
to  the  new  state  of  Illinois  with  an  honest  in- 
tention of  taking  a  decided  stand  on  the  side 
of  freedom  by  giving  up  nearly  all  his  patri- 
mony, was  looked  upon  by  the  southern  aris- 
tocracy as  a  most  bitter  foe  to  their  cause,  and 
to  retaliate  they  brought  suit  against  him  for 
non-compliance  with  the  laws  of  the  state  and 
recovered  three  thousand  dollars,  but  lost  their 
democratic  governor,  and  Coles.  Mr.  Coles 
had  held  a  high  position  in  social  life,  had 
traveled  abroad,  been  private  secretary  of 
President  Madison,  was  a  man  of  fine  sensibil- 
ities and  strictly  moral  character,  but  such  a 
man  must  be  put  down,  and  a  suit  was  brought 
against  him  and  three  thousand  dollars  added 
to  his  other  expenses  in  freeing  and  providing 
for  the  poor  negroes. 

Well,  I  have  made  quite  a  digression  from 
Caleb  and  Lucy  to  Governor  Coles,  but  the 
case  was  the  same  with  your  father,  and  as 
Caleb  was  a  dangerous  fellow  when  drunk, 
and  in  your  father's  absence  much  given  to 
spreeing,  it  was  a  case  requiring  some  wisdom. 
It  may  be  necessary  to  explain  why  we  were  in 
137 


a  ^oman'^  ^torp 


possession  of  slaves.  Nothing  but  dire  neces- 
sity could  have  induced  us  to  the  course  we 
pursued  in  taking  them.  Caleb  and  Lucy  were 
among  those  brought  into  Illinois  while  it  was 
a  territory.  When  it  became  a  state,  the  con- 
stitution permitted  those  who  held  slaves  to 
retain  them  as  indentured  servants,  or  slaves, 
with  the  privilege  of  selling  their  indentures  to 
others,  or  to  send  them  down  the  river  and  to 
sell  them  for  as  much  as  they  could  get.  Their 
children  were  to  be  the  property  of  the  masters 
with  whom  they  were  born  until  they  were 
eighteen  or  twenty-five  years  of  age,  I  have 
forgotten  which,  and  they  then  became  free 
negroes.  Caleb  and  Lucy  were  the  indentured 
slaves  of  Robert  McLaughlin  of  Vandaha. 
He  was  an  uncle  of  Governor  Duncan's,  and 
kept  the  principal  hotel  at  Vandalia.  Your 
father  always  stopped  there  during  the  winter, 
and  would  frequently  speak  of  Lucy  as  a  good 
cook. 

Your  father  came  home  from  Vandalia  at 
one  time  and  told  me  that  Mr.  McLaughlin^^ 

^8  Col.  Robert  K.  McLaughlin  was  a  native  of  Vir- 
ginia, a  lawyer  by  profession,  who  removed  first  to 
Kentucky  and  shortly  thereafter  to  B  elleville ,  Illinois . 
He  was  elected  to  the  office  of  state  treasurer  in  1819 
and  thereupon  removed  to  Vandaha,  the  new  capital, 
which  continued  to  be  his  home  until  his  death  in 
1862.  A  history  of  Fayette  County  records  that 
Colonel  McLaughlin  had  five  negroes  at  Vandalia, 
that  they  soon  ran  away,  and  that  he  made  no  effort 
to  recover  them.  Apparently  Mrs.  Tillson's  account 
of  this  phase  of  his  career  is  the  more  accurate  one. 

138 


of  J^ioneer  ^FHmoi^ 


asked  him  to  buy  out  their  indentures;  said 
that  Lucy  was  valuable  to  them,  but  Caleb 
was  getting  old,  and  quarreled  with  the  other 
negroes,  and  unless  he  could  find  someone  to 
take  them  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  send 
them  to  New  Orleans  and  sell  them.  Caleb 
was  sixty  years  of  age  and  Lucy  thirty,  and 
they  had  about  twenty-five  years  to  serve  — 
what  should  he  do  ?  Your  father  thought  that 
if  we  could  better  their  condition,  and  thereby 
secure  Lucy  as  a  cook,  it  would  not  be  amiss 
to  make  the  purchase.  I  had  never  seen  Caleb 
and  Lucy  and  consequently  had  none  of  the 
sympathy  which  your  father  felt  for  them, 
and  with  my  persistent  feeling  against  slavery 
would  not  consent  to  the  bargain,  and  no  more 
had  been  said  about  it. 

One  morning,  after  a  night  of  httle  rest 
from  the  fatigue  of  overworking  the  day  before, 
I  went  into  the  kitchen  to  make  preparation 
for  breakfast.  I  had  no  girl.  Nelly,  the  girl 
who  a  few  months  before  took  the  water  to  the 
gentleman's  rooms — you  have  heard  the  story 
—  had  behaved  badly  and  I  had  sent  her  off, 
and  I  felt  a  relief  when  she  was  gone.  When 
I  opened  the  kitchen  door  that  morning  there 
were  two  queer  specimens  of  humanity  stretched 
horizontally,  covering  almost  the  entire  vacant 
space  on  our  small  kitchen  floor.  When  I 
appeared  a  black  figure  arose  and  drawing  his 
tall  proportions  into  their  most  graceful  atti- 
tude and  putting  on  the  same  patronizing  face 

139 


^  Womm'$  ^torp 


that  he  wore  when  he  would  say,  "I'se  not 
hke  de  rest;  I' se  half  Delaware  Ingin;  de  best 
blood  when  cool,  but,  miza  me,  when  het  up 
de  worst  blood  det  eben  is  in  Ingin  tribes," 
he  bowed  obsequiously  and  said,  "I  am  Caleb, 
and  dis  is  Lucy,  on  de  floor.  Tse  had  ac- 
quaint'nce  with  Mr.  Tillson  for  some  years; 
I  allers  blacks  his  boots  and  makes  his  fires 
when  he's  in  Vandalia.  I'se  broke  with  Mas- 
ter Mac,  and  I  thought  I  would  come  and  try 
to  git  in  with  you,  madam.  I'll  kindle  the 
fire,  and  den  you  can  tell  Lucy  'bout  de  bref- 
fast."  I  made  my  way  back  to  the  bedroom 
and  when  I  returned  found  Lucy  up  and  await- 
ing my  orders.  It  was  no  small  consideration 
with  me,  worn  down  as  I  was,  to  have  some- 
one to  cook  a  comfortable  dinner,  and  at  night 
make  some  biscuit  and  get  up  a  supper  that 
pleased  your  father,  without  the  necessity  of 
being  over  the  big,  open  fire-place  and  lifting 
the  Dutch  oven  myself.  Still  it  was  slavery  — 
the  price  of  blood  —  that  haunted  me.  As 
there  was  a  penalty  attached  to  those  who 
harbored  runaway  slaves,  your  father  wrote 
immediately  to  Mr.  McLaughlin,  informing 
him  of  our  morning  surprise  and  asking  him 
what  to  do  with  them. 

After  about  a  month  Lucy  came  to  the 
kitchen  in  great  glee  and  told  me  that  Master 
Robert  was  at  the  gate  and  was  coming  in  with 
Mr.  Tillson,  and  she  was  "gwine  tu  have 
some  fuss  rate  biskits,  and  cook  some  of  dat 
140 


of  pioneer  S^llinoij^ 


nice  ham,  jes'  to  let  de  slave  folks  see  dat  de 
Yankees  has  as  good  things  as  theyuns;  and 
please,  will  you  get  out  some  of  your  best  de- 
serves?" After  the  table  was  ready  she  came 
again  to  know  if  she  could  roll  up  the  back 
window  curtains  in  the  dining  room,  so  that 
by  going  out  doors  she  could  look  in  and  see 
how  Old  Massa  liked  his  supper.  Of  course 
all  Lucy's  reasonable  requests  were  complied 
with,  and  "Old  Massa  "gave  evidence  of  his 
appreciation  of  a  good  meal. 

After  supper,  in  the  parlor,  Mr.  McLaughlin 
and  your  father  proceeded  to  business.  He 
had  made  up  his  mind  that  if  your  father  would 
give  him  five  hundred  dollars  for  the  time  Lucy 
was  to  serve,  thirty  years,  and  fifty  feet  of 
plank  from  his  mill  for  Caleb's  indentures, 
which  were  not  for  as  long  a  time  as  Lucy's, 
he  would  give  him  a  quit-claim  to  their  future 
services.  If  not,  he  should  take  them  to  New 
Orleans,  where  he  could  get  a  higher  price, 
but,  professing  a  kind  sympathy  for  their  wel- 
fare, would  prefer  to  make  the  sacrifice.  He 
was  to  spend  the  night  with  us  and  the  pro- 
posal was  to  be  decided  in  the  morning.  I 
saw  that  your  father's  wish  was  to  retain  them, 
and  as  my  kitchen  labors  were  to  be  abated, 
and  feeling,  too,  as  he  did,  that  I  could  not 
think  of  having  them  sent  off  to  the  slave  pens 
of  New  Orleans,  we  both  concluded  to  keep 
them.  Work  was  made  lighter,  but  conscience 
not  quite  easy. 

141 


a  Wmnan'0  ^torp 


January^  i8'j2. 

Having  brought  my  reminiscences  to  the 
close  of  the  four-and-a-half  years  of  Illinois, 
I  will,  before  beginning  on  another  year,  give  a 
parting  retrospect  of  my  isolation  while  at  our 
log  cabin  at  the  farm.  In  the  four  years  I  had 
left  home  once,  to  go  to  Vandalia,  where  I 
spent  nearly  a  week,  taking  with  m.e  Charley, 
who  was  six  weeks  old.  We  also  took  Mr. 
Black,  who  had  been  sick  and  with  us  for  the 
four  previous  months,  but  had  so  far  recovered 
as  to  be  able  to  enter  the  auditor's  office  as 
clerk  for  Colonel  Berry. ^^  About  a  year  after- 
wards I  went  to  Greenville  and  spent  two  days 
with  the  Blanchards'.  The  third  year  of  my 
backwoods  life  I  went  to  St.  Louis,  stopping 
at  Collinsville  and  spending  the  Sabbath  at 
Deacon  Collins'. 

That  Sunday  was  communion  day,  and  I 
there  met  Mrs.  Breath,  who  with  her  son  Ed- 
ward for  a  driver  had  come  down  from  the  Ma- 
rine settlement  in  a  wagon,  drawn  by  two  stout 
oxen.  Ed.,  the  teamster,  was  afterwards  the 
beloved  missionary  to  Persia,  and  Mrs.  Breath 
did  not  feel  her  dignity  lowered  or  any  apolo- 
gy necessary  on  account  of  her  rude  turnout, 
but  simply  remarked  that  they  had  lost  their 

horses.     I  also  met  with  Mrs.  B ,  from  St. 

Louis,  who  was  a  visitor  there.     I  saw  her  in 

^'Elijah  C.  Berry  of  Kaskaskia,  first  state  auditor 
of  Illinois. 

142 


of  ^ioneet  S^llinoi^ 


St.  Louis  when  I  made  my  first  visit,  and 
when  I  had  all  my  nice  wedding  wardrobe,  and 
was  complimented  on  my  good  taste  in  dressing. 
"Like  begets  like,"  and  I  was  not  aware  that 
two  and  a  half  years  with  such  coarse  sur- 
roundings had  told  so  heavily  on  my  personal 
appearance.  Mrs.  B.  somewhat  officiously  tried 
to  convince  me  of  the  fact,  saying  I  dressed 
old  enough  for  a  lady  of  old  Mrs.  Collins'  age. 
I  had  had  an  attack  of  intermittent  fever  the 
autumn  previous  and  lost  my  hair,  so  that  I  had 
been  under  the  necessity  of  wearing  a  cap, 
and  as  there  had  been  no  style  to  follow  I  m.ade 
rather  an  outlandish  appearance;  I  had  taken 
one  of  my  best  collars,  put  on  a  muslin  crown, 
and  trimmed  it  with  lace,  a  thing  that  in  com- 
parison with  the  checkered  cotton  handerker- 
chiefs  worn  on  the  heads  of  our  native  women 
was  quite  a  triumph,  but  when  I  showed  my 
head  to  the  St.  Louis  aristocracy  I  felt  de- 
cidedly night-cappy.  Arriving  at  St.  Louis  the 
Paddocks  gave  me  hints  and  lectures  on  the 
same  subject;  was  there  three  or  four  days 
and  brushed  up  a  little.  Started  for  Edwards- 
ville;  on  our  way  homeward  spent  two  days 
at  Major  Hopkins'.  The  last  night  I  spent 
there  Charley  was  taken  sick,  and  in  the  morn- 
ing the  whole  family  remonstrated  about  our 
leaving  with  so  sick  a  child. 

The  flies,  which  at  that  season  swarmed  on 
the    prairie,    made    it    dangerous   to    attempt 
crossing  in  the  daytime,  as  they  would  attack 
143 


31  ^oman'^  ^torp 


horses  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  them  perfectly 
frantic  and  unmanageable.  This  was  another 
reason  urged  why  it  would  be  unsafe  for  us  to 
start,  but  your  father  had  a  business  engagement 
to  meet  and  his  mind  was  made  up;  so  taking  a 
bottle  of  something  to  allay  Charley's  thirst, 
for  he  had  a  high  fever,  and  taking  him  on  my 
lap,  we  started  on  our  ride  of  forty  miles. 
There  was  a  strong  wind  that  day  which  was 
fortunate  for  us  as  the  flies  could  not  settle  on 
the  horses  as  in  a  calm,  and  by  a  most  furious 
driving,  which  your  father  well  understood, 
we  were  enabled  to  reach  home  before  night. 

These  three  visits  were  all  that  I  made  out 
of  our  own  neighborhood  for  the  first  four-and- 
a-half  years.  Twice  in  that  time  I  spent  a  day 
at  '  *  Parson  Townsend's, ' '  seven  miles  from  us. 
I  spent  one  day  at  Colonel  Seward's,  one  at 
Butler  Seward's,  and  occasionally  would  ride 
up  to  "Father Townsend's"  and  spend  a  day 
or  part  of  a  day.  Among  the  western  neighbors, 
I  dined  twice  at  Esquire  Kilpatrick's,  in  the 
cabin  without  a  floor;  once  at  Jesse  Buzan's, 
once  at  Commodore  Yoakum's,  which,  with 
the  exception  of  one  wedding,  and  one  *  *  infare, ' ' 
covered  all  my  absences  from  the  old  home. 

Perhaps  you  do  not  understand  the  word 
"infare."  It  is  the  reception  of  the  bridal 
pair  and  other  invited  guests  at  the  house  of 
the  groom's  father  the  day  after  the  marriage. 
It  was  the  only  time  I  ever  witnessed  the 
western  custom  of  riding  for  the  bride's  bottle. 
144 


of  pioneer  S^llinoi^ 


If  I  had  not  already  gone  into  so  many  par- 
ticulars, I  would  give  you  a  description  of  the 
race.  The  wedding  I  attended  was  that  of 
Mrs.  Kilpatrick's  daughter,  who  was  married 
to  a  stranger  who  had  recently  appeared  in  the 
neighborhood  calling  himself  a  doctor.  I 
knew  as  soon  as  I  put  my  eye  on  him  that  he 
was  a  scamp,  but  for  Mrs.  Kilpatrick's  sake 
I  invited  them  all  to  dine  with  me  the  next 
day. 

The  story  of  my  visits  could  soon  be  told;  but 
visitors  and  hangers-on  were  legion.  When 
preparing  breakfast  I  never  knew  whether  it 
was  for  my  own  family,  or  several  more.  The 
*  'bounty-landers, "  who  were  on  their  way  from 
the  military  tract  to  Vandalia,  would,  after 
spending  the  night  at  Colonel  Seward's,  get 
on  in  the  morning  as  far  as  the  land-office,  of 
course  arriving  just  in  time  for  breakfast.  Be- 
sides which  all  the  ministers  made  our  house 
their  depot.  If  we  chanced  to  be  patronized 
by  a  well-informed  and  good  man,  we  felt  it  a 
favor  conferred,  but  I  am  sorry  to  say  the 
greater  number  of  the  clerical  brothers  were 
poor  pay.  Sarah  Seymour  spent  about  six' 
months  with  me  by  invitation,  a  real  bother, 
as  was  also  the  daughter  of  good  Deacon  Jones, 
who  lived  in  our  neighborhood  a  year  and  then 
went  to  his  wild  lands  in  Fulton  County.  Mrs. 
Jones  asked  me  to  keep  her  daughter  and 
attend  to  her  lessons,  and  accept  her  services 
as  nurse  for  Charley  and  general  assistant 
145 


a  l^oman'^ef  J>torp 


about  the  house  in  return.  She  stayed  not 
quite  a  year,  and  home  seemed  better  after 
she  left.  Rosetta  Townsend  spent  much  of 
her  time  with  me;  a  lovely  girl,  and  we  all  be- 
came warmly  attached  to  her.  A  sadness 
rests  on  her  memory.  Her  life  was  a  short 
one  —  she  was  loving  and  amiable. 

In  the  summer  of  1826  we  became  members 
of  the  Shoal  Creek  Church  in  Bond  County 
and  Charles  and  John  were  baptized  there,  but 
as  the  church  was  sixteen  miles  from  us  we 
did  not  go  to  it  only  on  communion  seasons. 
It  was  the  custom  at  that  time  to  have  the 
preparatory  lecture  on  the  Friday  previous  to 
the  communion,  and  continue  the  services 
through  Saturday,  and  as  the  log  church  was 
not  convenient  for  a  large  gathering  tents  were 
put  up,  and  such  accommodations  as  are  pro- 
vided at  Methodist  camp  meetings.  Our  other 
church  privihges  were  to  go  occasionally  to 
the  Methodist,  Cumberland  Presbyterian,  or 
"Hard-shell"  Baptist,  none  of  which  edified  or 
spiritualized  much.  Our  attempt  to  get  up  a 
Sunday  school  by  inviting  the  children  of  the 
settlement  to  our  house  on  Sunday  was  in  some 
respects  encouraging,  though  there  were  some 
drawbacks  and  discouragements  attending  it. 
One  girl,  whose  father  and  mother  could  read, 
had  instructed  their  promising  daughter  in  all 
that  they  knew.  She  came  a  few  Sundays,  and 
because  I  would  not  give  her  lessons  in  gram- 
mar concluded  that  she  could  read  as  well  as 
146 


of  pioneer  S^Hinoi^ 


I  could,  and  so  absented  herself  from  the 
school.  Sometimes  I  was  sadly  in  doubt  as 
to  how  to  manage  with  the  fathers  and  mothers 
of  the  children,  who  had  never  *'seed"  a  Sun- 
day-school, and  came,  bringing  their  babies, 
to  sit  as  spectators  while  we  gave  instruction, 
but  did  not  get  ready  to  go  away  when  the 
school  was  dismissed,  and  not  until  they  had 
tasted  the  worth  of  Yankee  cooking. 

You  may  feel  that  I  have  attached  undue 
notice  to  the  meals  given  and  the  calls  on  our 
hospitality,  but  could  you  know  the  labor  of 
bringing  from  raw  materials  anything  at  all 
presentable  for  family  use,  you  would  under- 
stand why  the  impression  was  so  lasting.  Be- 
sides the  burden  of  cooking,  there  were  many 
others.  Every  Monday  morning,  instead  of 
pumping  out  a  boiler  of  soft  water,  the  kettle 
had  to  be  suspended  over  the  fire  by  means  of 
pot-hooks  fastened  to  a  trammel  that  was  sus- 
pended from  a  bar  in  the  chimney.  The  getting 
the  kettle  hung  was  too  severe  for  a  woman's 
muscle,  and  a  man  had  to  be  called  into  the 
performance.  Then  a  small  kettle  containing 
ashes  and  water  must  also  be  put  on  the  fire; 
when  the  small  kettle  boiled  and  the  water  be- 
came lye,  it  was  taken  off  and  settled  as  you 
would  a  pot  of  coffee;  not  with  egg,  but  with 
cold  water.  When  the  large  kettle  of  water 
boiled,  the  water  from  the  small  kettle  must  be 
dipped  into  it  and  stirred  until  flakes  like  snow- 
flakes  came  up,  and  then,  as  Mother  Seward — 
147 


a  l^oman'^  .Storp 


who  instructed  me  in  the  process  —  would  say, 
**  the  water  was  broke."  The  scum  was  then 
taken  off  from  the  top  and  the  water  dipped  into 
tubs  to  cool,  a  thick  sediment  would  fall  to  the 
bottom  of  the  tubs,  leaving  the  water  clean  and 
pure,  ready  for  use.  As  several  kettles  full  had 
to  pass  through  this  process,  it  w^ould  occupy 
the  first  half  of  washing  day,  thereby  bringing 
everything  wrong.  When  the  clothes  were 
washed  I,  contrary  to  all  rule  among  my  neigh- 
bors, hung  them  on  a  line  instead  of  the  fence, 
but  as  clothes-pins  were  not  known  there,  had 
to  wait  until  I  could  find  Loomis  in  the  right 
mood  to  whittle  some  out,  which,  after  about 
three  months,  he  accomplished.  The  first  time 
they  were  used  I  was  attracted  to  the  window 
to  see  what  was  the  source  of  such  jollification 
as  was  being  shown  by  two  of  our  backwoods 
neighbors.  They  were  looking  at  the  clothes 
yard,  and  calling  to  the  third,  who  was  on  his 
way  to  join  them,  "See  here,  ain't  that  jest 
the  last  Yankee  fixin'  ?  jest  see  them  ar  little 
boys  ridin'  on  a  rope." 

We  had  no  market  and  must  live  as  did 
our  neighbors  on  corn  bread  and  "flitch." 
"Flitch "  was  the  fat  portion  of  the  hog,  which 
would  be  laid  on  the  floor  in  one  corner  of 
their  smoke-house,  and  salt  sprinkled  over  it;  it 
was  a  filthy  process,  and  when  cooked  (fried) 
was  a  disgusting  food;  so  in  order  to  have  more 
comfortable  fare  ourselves,  and  to  have  some- 
thing in  readiness  for  the  visitors  that  so  un- 
148 


of  ^ionttt  3^Hinoii3? 


ceremoniously  came  upon  us,  I  had  recourse  to 
all  the  poor  wits  I  possessed.  We  usually  had 
a  quarter  of  beef  —  nothing  less  —  brought  at  a 
time ;  sometimes  a  whole  animal.  Your  father 
knew  nothing  about  cutting  and  dividing  meat, 
so  by  the  help  of  directions  laid  down  in  a 
cookery  book  and  a  little  saw  I  attempted  this 
art.  When  I  could  not  manage  among  the  big 
bones  I  would  enlist  your  Uncle  Robert,  and 
we  performed  wonderfully.  A  part  would  be 
salted  down  to  be  used  for  corn  beef  when  the 
fresh  had  been  eaten;  the  pieces  for  roast  and 
steak  set  apart;  the  fat  about  the  kidneys 
carefully  picked  out  and  put  to  dry  for  suet, 
and  the  remainder  of  the  fat  melted,  strained, 
and  put  away  for  candles;  a  part  made  into 
"collared"  or  ** pressed  beef;"*  the  round 
made  into  * '  hunter's  beef, "  and  the  shins  hung 
up  in  a  cool  place  for  soup;  so  in  attending  to 
the  different  ways  of  disposing  of  these  things 
I  had  plenty  to  do,  to  say  nothing  of  the  care 
required  in  warm  Ayeather  to  keep  the  flies  from 
leaving  a  deposit  whereby  animal  life  was  en- 
gendered. 

But  the  most  tedious  thing  was  candle- 
making.  Each  desk  in  the  office  must  be  sup- 
pHed  with  two  candles,  and  with  what  was 
necessary  for  other  parts  of  the  house  not  less 
than  three  dozen  would  suffice  for  a  week.  Un- 
fortunately for  my  own  comfort  I  had  experi- 
mented and  made  improvements  in  dipped 
candles  until  I  had  succeeded  in  getting  them 
149 


a  l^oman'^  ^torp 


of  such  brilliancy  that  no  others  were  to  be 
used  in  the  office.  I  used  to  dip  sixteen  dozen 
in  the  fall  and  twenty  dozen  in  the  spring.  For 
the  spring  candles  I  boiled  the  tallow  in  alum 
water  to  harden  it  for  summer  use.  Were  I  to 
attempt  to  tell  you  the  process,  or  the  labor 
bestowed  on  these  "nocturnal  luminaries," 
you  would  not  comprehend  it,  and  as  the  day 
is  past  for  making  them,  being  a  part  of  house- 
keeping, it  will  not  be  worth  while  to  expatiate 
further  on  their  merits.  But  oh!  I  can  fancy 
my  poor,  tired  shoulder  and  strained  arm  are 
now  in  sympathy  with  the  toil  of  tallow.  Not 
like  practicing  two  hours  on  the  piano,  which 
when  you  are  tired  you  can  stop,  but  from 
three  to  four  mortal  hours  the  right  arm  must 
be  in  constant  movement.  If  a  rest  is  giv^en 
to  the  arm  the  candles  become  too  hard  and 
break,  and  the  tallow  in  the  pot  gets  too  cool, 
so  dip,  dip,  dip,  six  candles  at  a  time;  each 
time  the  candles  grow  heavier  and  heavier,  and 
the  shoulder  more  rebellious.  Besides  the 
dipped  candles  I  had  moulds  in  which  I  could 
mould  two  dozen  at  once,  and  all  the  accumula- 
ations  from  the  beef  that  we  weekly  cooked 
was  turned  into  moulded  candles,  which  your 
father  said  looked  well,  but  did  not  give  as 
clear  a  light  as  his  office  candles.  I  sometimes 
bought  a  cake  of  deer's  tallow;  it  was  harder 
than  beef,  but  not  as  white;  the  natives  used 
to  put  beeswax  in  their  tallow.  I  tried  it,  but 
found  they  emitted  an  unpleasant  smoke. 
150 


of  pioneer  3^lIinoi^ 


Do  not  think  that  in  all  the  four  and  a  half 
years  we  sojourned  at  the  farm,  with  all  the 
disagreeable  and  laborious  duties  that  devolved 
upon  me,  there  were  no  bright  spots  —  no  silver 
linings  to  the  lonely  clouds.  My  two  boys  were 
real  gems,  relieving  me  of  many  lonely  hours. 
We,  too,  had  the  acquaintance  of  the  best  peo- 
ple all  over  the  state,  and  received  visits  from 
the  most  prominent  men  in  the  West. 

In  1835  we  were  in  Philadelphia,  where 
Governor  Coles  had  established  himself  after 
his  marriage.  He  called  with  his  wife  to  in- 
vite us  to  a  party  at  his  house.  We  there 
met  the  elite  of  the  city,  besides  some  distin- 
guished strangers,  and  the  Governor,  when  I 
alluded  to  our  log  cabin  acquaintance,  took 
occasion  to  inform  the  group  that  was  near  us 
that  I  had  no  claim  to  such  a  life;  that  I  lived 
in  a  nicely  painted  house  with  a  picket  fence 
around  it,  and  entertained  more  company  than 
any  other  lady  in  the  state.  The  old  Governor 
was  a  little  soft-soapy,  and  besides  did  not  see 
our  house  until  after  it  had  received  a  covering 
of  clapboards  and  a  coat  of  white  paint.  I 
had  many  trials  of  patience  within  those  old 
log  walls  and  also  many,  very  many  things  to 
alleviate  the  trials  of  backwoods  life.  Your 
father  was  in  good  business  and  had  the  means 
of  doing  many  things  for  others  less  favored 
than  himself.  He  had  not  only  the  means 
but  the  will  to  be  generous,  and  he  was  cer- 
tainly a  most  cheerful  giver.  It  is  one  of  the 
151 


a  Wt}man'$  ^torp 


greatest  comforts  to  me  in  looking  back  on  the 
past  that  we  were  placed  in  a  condition  to  ex- 
tend favors  to  others,  and  if  the  means  have 
been  restricted,  the  will  to  do  so  is  as  strong 
as  when  the  privilege  was  ours.  I  sometimes 
feel  that  if  I  had  done  more  my  restrictions 
would  be  less,  but  I  hope  never  to  live  unmind- 
ful of  the  blessings  that  surrounded  me  in  early 
life,  and  now  that  I  am  old  and  gray-headed  I 
am  not  forsaken. 

In  the  spring  of  1827  we  started  from  our 
western  home  to  visit  our  kinsfolks, — a  great 
event  and  a  great  undertaking.  I  had  no  nurse. 
Charley  was  three-and-a-half,  and  John  a  year- 
and-a-halfold.  RosettaTownsend  went  with  us 
and  took  care  of  Charles.  He  slept  with  her  and 
she  washed  aud  dressed  him;  but  poor  John- 
nie! either  the  change  of  water  or  something 
else  had  given  him  a  most  inveterate  summer 
sickness.  It  commenced  at  St.  Louis  and 
continued  all  the  way.  We  were  about  four 
weeks  in  making  the  journey  from  St.  Louis 
to  Providence,  an  improvement  in  speed  upon 
the  seven-and-a-half  weeks  given  to  our  first 
journey.  I  had  had  a  winter  of  toil  and  moving 
with  other  labors  attendant  upon  preparing 
for  such  a  journey.  My  strength  was  so  com- 
pletely exhausted  that  but  for  the  all-absorbing 
desire  to  go  back  to  the  home  of  my  childhood  I 
think  my  courage  would  have  failed.  Johnnie 
was  a  patient  little  sufferer  all  the  way.  But 
few  were  the  nights  of  quiet  rest  for  either  of  us. 
152 


of  pioneer  S^llmoi^ 


We  stopped  a  day  or  two  at  Louisville  and 
Cincinnati,  and  at  Pittsburgh  took  a  stage  for 
Erie,  which  was  then  a  sorry  little  village. 
We  waited  three  or  four  days  for  the  lake  to 
recover  its  smoothness  after  a  long  storm. 
The  waves  were  rearing  mountain  high  when 
we  arrived  there,  and  no  boats  ventured  out 
for  several  days.  We  went  to  Buffalo,  and 
started  for  Niagara  the  next  morning.  We 
were  all  day  jolting  over  a  wretched  road  in  a 
carriage,  a  great  part  of  the  way  through 
swampy  ground  with  a  corduroy  bridging.  The 
jolting  was  so  severe  on  Johnnie  that  I  carried 
him  in  my  arms  most  of  the  way,  and  we  did 
not  reach  Niagara  until  after  dark,  too  late  to 
see  the  Falls.  As  we  were  to  leave  the  next 
day  in  time  to  reach  and  meet  the  canal  boat, 
our  only  chance  for  seeing  the  Falls  was  to  go 
out  before  breakfast;  accordingly,  as  soon  as 
the  day  dawned  we  were  up,  and  leaving  the 
children  in  bed,  went  out  and  feasted  our  eyes 
on  the  wonders  of  nature,  returning  to  the 
hotel  in  time  for  breakfast  and  to  hurry  our- 
selves off  for  another  corduroy  siege. 

At we  took  the  canal  boat  to , 

and  then  went  by  stage  to  Albany,  where  we 
stopped  several  days.  Your  father  had  busi- 
ness, and  we  found  ourselves  looking  so  decid- 
edly shabby  that  we  thought  it  the  part  of 
decency,  at  least,  to  make  ourselves  a  little 
more  presentable  before  reaching  New  York, 
where  we  expected  to  meet  acquaintances.  So 
153 


a  Woman'$  ^torp 


I  had  made  a  new,  blue  ladies'  cloth  traveling 
dress,  a  skirt  and  jacket,  much  as  they  are 
now  worn,  minus  overskirt,  a  black  figured  silk 
dress,  a  leghorn  bonnet,  and  some  things  for 
the  children.  Your  father  appeared  in  a  new 
suit  and  much  to  our  amusement  the  clerk, 
who  had  seen  him  go  out.  and  in  for  several 
days  without  making  any  particular  demon- 
stration, met  him  at  the  door  as  he  came  in 
the  first  time  in  his  new  suit,  and  with  his 
most  obsequious  bow  showed  him  to  the  best 
parlor,  thinking  he  had  a  new  guest.  We  went 
to  New  York  and  stayed  with  Rosetta's  grand- 
father, Mr.  Downing.  It  was  easier  for  me, 
as  I  could  leave  the  children  with  Rosetta  and 
go  out  occasionally.  I  felt  quite  at  home,  and 
had  an  opportunity  to  get  some  rest.  From 
New  York  we  went  to  Providence  and  spent  a 
few  days,  and  then  your  Aunt  Maria,  taking 
little  Maria,  went  with  us  to  Kingston,  where 
we  all  spent  the  rest  of  the  summer. 


154 


Ind 


ex 


3Intic]i: 


Adams,  John  Quincy,  appointments,  90-91. 

Adamson,  Miss  — ,  married,  88. 

Ague.     See  Fever  and  Ague. 

Albany  (N.  Y.),  visited,  153. 

Allen,  George  C.,  pioneer,  7,  10. 

Allen,  Rowland  P.,  pioneer,  7,  10. 

Allen,  Seth,  at  Providence,  34, 

Alton,  college  at,  4;  residents,  9. 

American  Fur  Company,  Illinois  traders,  xiii. 

Amherst  (Mass.),  publication  at,  XX,  3. 

Anti-slavery  issue,  in  Illinois,  8,  9,  10,  137.  See  also 
slavery. 

Atlas,  in  Pike  County,  7,9.  ♦ 

Attleboro  (Mass.),  emigrant  from,  95. 

Baltimore,  seaport,  11. 

Baptists,  in  Illinois,  14,  78,  111-113,  146. 

Barrens  (Ky.),  emigrants  from,  25. 

Barter,  in  early  Illinois,  124,  130. 

Bateman  and  Selby.  Historical  Encyclopedia  of  Illi- 
nois, xviii. 

Bedford  (Mass.),  carriage  factory  at,  31. 

Beef,  bought  by  the  quarter,  149. 

Belleville,  resident,  138. 

Berry,  Elijah  C,  auditor,  142. 

Berry,  William,  state  printer,  8. 

Bird,  — •,  brickmaker,  116,  118. 

Birge,  — ,  Greenville  postmaster,  16,  72,  85. 

Black,  James,  pioneer,  7,  73-74,  85,  95,  115,  117,  121; 
at  Vandalia,  142. 

Blackwell,  Robert,  pioneer,  7;  sketch,  8-9. 

Blunehard,  Elisha,  pioneer,  7. 

Blanchard,  Samuel,  pioneer,  7. 

Blanchard,  Seth,  pioneer,  7. 

157 


^nhtx 


Blanchard  family,  at  Greenville,  i6,  71-72,  85,  142. 
Blane,    William    Ne^nham.     Excursion    through    the 

Utiited  States  and  Canada,  34. 
Bond  County,  settled,  xiii,   13;   divided,   15;   county 

seat,  71;  meeting  in,  117,  120;  church  in,  146. 
Bonhomme  (Mo.),  residents,  10. 
Boston,  port  of  departure,  11;  interest  in  Illinois, 

15-16;  shopping  in,  38;  emigrants  from,  41,  134. 
Boston  Medical  College,  professor,  5. 
Boston  Recorder,  editor,  42. 
Bowling  Green  (Ky.),  law  office  at,  12. 
Braley,  Andrew,  married,  11. 
Braley,  Eliza,  mother,  128. 
Breath,  Edward,  missionary,  142. 
Breath,  James,  sketch,  10. 
Breath  family,  pioneers,  7,  88,  142. 
Brick-making,  in  Illinois,  115-116,  126-128. 
Bridgewater  (Mass.),  Academy,  students.  5. 
Briggs,  JMrs.  — ,  grandmother  of  Mrs.  Tillson,  31. 
Briggs,  Charles,  Harvard  graduate,  16. 
Bright,  Mrs.  — ,  at  St.  Louis,  99-100. 
Bro\\-n,  William  H.,  pioneer,  7,  117,  120;   wiie,  75,  86 

1I7, 120;  sketch,  8. 
Buffalo  (N.  Y.),  visited,  153. 
Buzan,  Billy,  rents  farm,  72;  mentioned,  123. 
Buzan,  Jesse,  pioneer,  xvii,  27,  74,81-84,95,98,  122, 

144. 
Buzan,  Mrs.  Jesse,  visitor,  122-123. 
Caleb,   slave,    129,    134-136;     desires    manumission, 

136-138;   sketch,  138-141. 
Cairo  (111.),  at  mouth  of  Ohio,  46. 
Calhoun,  early  name  for  Springfield,  90. 
Calhoun  County,  settled,  xii,  19. 
California,  gold  rush,  9. 
Candle-making,  97,  100,  149-150. 
Canton,  settler,  12. 
Carlyle,  visited,  70-71. 
Carver,  Jonathan,  land  grant,  21. 
Carver  (Mass.),  emigrant  from,  17,  73. 
Caucus,  in  New  York,  35. 

158 


S^ntiejc 


Chelsea  (Mass.),  residents,  5. 

Chicago,  portage  at,  xiii;   early  settlers,  8,  10,  75,  95. 

Chicago  Historical  Society,  xx. 

Chicago  Theological  Seminary,  building,  21. 

Chillicothe  (Ohio),  route  via,  ss,  39;  hotel  at,  37. 

Cincinnati,  residents,  31,  36,  90;  route  via,  32-33; 
visited,  41,  43-44,  i53- 

Clarksville  (Mo.),  river  town,  21. 

Clay,  Henry,  relatives,  108. 

Clemens,  Mr.  — ,  at  St.  Louis,  92. 

Clermont  County  (Ohio),  crossed,  S3' 

Clinton  County,  settled,  xiii;  seat",  70. 

Coffey,  — ,  Hillsboro  pioneer,  15. 

Coles,  Edward,  pioneer,  7;  liberates  slaves,  136;  gu- 
bernatorial campaign,  137;  in  Philadelphia,  151; 
sketch,  9. 

Collins,  Almira,  married,  94. 

Collins,  Augustus,  pioneer,  7,  29-30,  53;  sketch,  7. 

Collins  family,  remove  West,  29-30;  visited,  142. 

Collinsville,  settled,  7-8,  30;  visited,  142. 

Columbus  (Ohio),  route  via,  33. 

Connecticut,  emigrants  from,  7,  29,  90,  93;  travel 
through,  34.     ^  _ 

Conover,  — ,  in  Illinois  legislature,  77. 

Cook,  Daniel  P.,  pioneer  editor,  8. 

Cook  County,  named,  8. 

Cotton,  raised  in  Illinois,  106-107. 

Court  week,  in  Illinois,  111-112. 

Cox,  Thomas,  pioneer,  90. 

Cumberland  (Md.),  route  via,  S3,  36. 

Cumberland  Presbyterians,  in  IlHnois,  78,  146. 

Cushman,  Joshua,  of  Maine,  39. 

Cushman,  Joshua  Jr.,  in  Ohio,  31,  36,  39-41. 

Cushman,  Mrs.  Jotham,  accompanies  Mrs.  Tillson,  31, 
33,  36,  42;  incident  concerning,  37-38;  arrives  at 
her  son's,  40-41;   sketch,  39. 

Danforth,  Joseph,  in  Louisville,  45. 

Danforth,  Joseph  Jr.,  45. 

Danforth,  Julia,  45. 

Des  Plaines  River,  trade  route,  xiii. 

159 


^fntiejc 


Dent,  Frederick  F.,  Mrs.  Tillson  meets,  44,  46. 

Dewey,  Orval,  pioneer,  7. 

Dickerson,  John,  builder,  126-128. 

Distillery,  in  Illinois,  30. 

Doris,  housemaid,  111-113,  116,  118-119,  121-122. 

Downing,  — ,  in  New  York,  154. 

Drake,  Dr.  — ,  pioneer  physician,  132. 

Durfee,  Miss  — ,  married,  87. 

Duncan,  Governor  Joseph,  138. 

Dutch.     See  Germans. 

Eda,  housemaid,  no. 

Edgar  County,  population,  xii. 

Education,  in  early  Illinois,  xvii,  87. 

Edwardsville,  land  office  at,  8,  14-15,  17,  20;  recorder, 

12-13,  28;  school  at,  87;  visited,  88-89,  i43;  bank 

at,  129. 
Edwardsville  Spectator,  founded,  10;  sold,  10;  editor,  88. 
Elliot,  — ,  St.  Louis  storekeeper,  91-92. 
Enos,  Pascal  P.,  founder  of  Springfield,  90;  receiver  of 

public  money,  117;  visits  Tillsons,  1 18-120. 
Enos,  Miss — ,  married,  91. 
Erie  (Pa.),  visited,  153. 
Erie  Canal,  route  via,  153. 
Fayette  County,  divided,  15;  history,  138. 
Fern,  Fanny,  authoress,  43. 
Ferry  boats,  at  Wheeling,  36;  at  Shawneetown,  48;  at 

Kaskaskia,  69;  at  St.  Louis,  89. 
Fever  and  ague,  in  the  West,  15,  28. 
Fight,  described,  49-50. 
"Flitch,"  defined,  148. 
Forbes,  John,  road  named  for,  32. 
Forehand,  Mrs.  Jarvis,  pioneer,  112. 
Fort  Armstrong,  built,  xiii. 
Fort  Clark,  location,  xiii. 
Fort  Dearborn,  built,  xiii. 
Fort  Edwards,  location,  xiii. 
Fort  Winnebago,  surgeon  at,  10. 
Fox,  Mr.  — ,  Cincinnati  inn  keeper,  41. 
French,  at  St.  Louis,  91,  93. 

Fulton  County,  settlers,  12,  21-22,  145;  organized,  22. 
160 


^nhtx 


Furniture,  for  log  cabin,  98-100. 

Fur  trade,  in  Illinois,  xiii. 

Galena,  residents,  xix,  7,  8,  10,  16. 

Gallatin  County,  salines  in,  xii. 

Germans,  in  Pennsylvania,  35-36;  in  Illinois,  110. 

Giddings,  Mrs.  Almira,  pioneer,  29-30. 

Giddings,  Frederic,  born,  30;  at  Quincy,  94. 

Gillett,  Mrs.  Dr.,  of  Jacksonville,  29. 

Grant,  Mrs.  Ulysses  S.,  married,  45. 

Greene  County,  settled,  xii. 

Greenville,  early  settlers,  7,  16,  71-72,  75,  85;    post 

office  at,  16;    brick  making,  116;    physician,  132; 

visited,  142. 
Halifax  (Mass.),  emigrants  from,  xvii,  xix,  4,  n,  31, 

39,  124. 
Hablet,  Moses,  pioneer,  11-12,  15,  28. 
Hamilton,  William  S.,  pioneer,  7;  sketch,  9. 
Flamilton.     See  Hillsboro. 
Hanna,  Brice,  pioneer,  xvii,  69,  89;    visited,  51,  55,' 

57-68. 
Hanson  (Mass.),  39. 
Flardy,  — ,  Presbyterian  minister,  56. 
Hartford  (Conn.),  resident,  93. 
Harvard  College,  graduate^  16. 
Hatch,  — ,  Springfield  pioneer,  91. 
Havana,  settled,  22. 
Henry  (111.),  early  settler,  10. 
Hillsboro,  settlers,  xvii,  10,  12,  17;    natives,  xviii-xix; 

county  seat,  15,  125;  Tillsons  move  to,  125-128. 
Hillsboro  Academy,  founder,  xvii. 
Hilton,  — ,  Shawneetown  landlord,  50. 
Hinckley,  Mrs.  Julia  Townsend,  9-10;   as  a  child,  128, 

133- 
Hind's  Prairie,  in  Illinois,  65. 
Holmes,  Ellen,  married,  loi. 

Home  manufactures,  24-26.     See  also  Candle  making. 
Hopkins,  Major  — ,  hotel  keeper,  88,  143. 
Hopkins,  Polly,  at  Edwardsville,  88. 
Horn,  — ,  farm  hand,  114. 

Hough,  Emerson,  The  Passing  of  the  Frontier,  xvi. 
161 


^Tntier 


Hoxie,  — ,  pioneer,  28. 

Hubbard,  Thomas,  in  IMassachusetts,  39. 

Iles,  Elijah,  pioneer,  90. 

Illinois  Central  Railroad,  trustee,  8. 

Illinois  College,  trustee,  x\m;   graduate,  x\dii. 

Illinois  River,  as  a  boundary,  xiii,  6,  18;   fur  trade  on, 

xiii;  crossed,  19,  23. 
Illinois  State  Historical  Library,  xx. 
Indiana,  crossed,  33;  roads  in,  43. 
Indianapolis  (Ind.),  road  to,  33. 
Infare,  described,  144-145. 
Jacksox\t:lle,  pioneers,  29. 
Jernegan  family,  in  Ohio,  40-41. 
Joicy  ("Kaintuck"),  maid  ser\'ant,  95,  97,  100,  107; 

sketch,  108-109. 
Jones,  Deacon,  Fulton  County  pioneer,  145. 
"Kaintuck."     See  Joicy. 
Kankakee  River,  as  a  boundary,  19. 
Kaskaskia,  importance  of,  47;  road  to,  xii;  legislature 

removes.  75;  resident,  142. 
Kaskaskia  Illinois  Intelligencer,  piiblisher,  8. 
Kaskaskia  River,  settlements  on,  xii-xiii;    ferry  over, 

69-70. 
Kentucky,  emigrants  from,  25,  138. 
Kerr,  Augustus,  at  St.  Louis,  91. 
Kerr. family,  at  St.  Louis,  91. 
Keyes,  Willard,  pioneer,  20;  sketch,  21. 
Keyte,  — ,  St.  Louis  resident,  95. 
Kickapoo  Indians,  in  Illinois,  xiii. 
Kilpatrick,  David,  pioneer,  24-27,  81,  44. 
Kilpatrick,  Mrs.  David,  120-121,  145. 
Kilpatrick,    Peggy,    early   life,    25-26;    married,    27, 

81-84. 
Kilpatrick,  Polly,  early  life,  25-26;  married,  24,  27. 
Kingston  (Mass.),  emigrants  from,  xviii,  32;    visited, 

154. 
Lancaster  (Ohio),  route  via,  s3- 
Lancaster  (Pa.),  \dsited,  36. 
Lands,  military  bounty  tract,  xiii,  6,  19,  21-22,  135, 

145;  speculation  in,  x\di;  sales  of,  135. 
162 


'^nhtx 


Lauthlin  settlement,  in  Bond  County,  117. 

Lead  mines,  in  Illinois,  8;  in  Wisconsin,  9. 

Leggett  family,  pioneers,  7,  89. 

Lewis,  Edmund,  in  Louisville,  45. 

Lewiston,  settled,  21-22. 

Lexington  (Ky.),  road  to,  t,^. 

Lincoln,  Abraham,  cited,  xv;   in  state  legislature,  75. 

Lippincott,  Thomas,  pioneer  clergyman,  7,   10;    Log 

Cabin  Days  in  the  West,  11. 
Litchfield  (Conn.),  emigrants  from,  7. 
Lockwood,  Samuel,  pioneer,  7;  sketch,  8. 
Loomis,  William,  carpenter,  95-98,  100,  107,  109,  114, 

117-118,,  148;  military  title,  109-110. 
Louisville  (Ky.),  visited,  44-45,  153;   resident,  88. 
Lucy,  slave,  128-129,  134-136;  history,  138-141. 
Lynn  (Mass.),  native,  16. 
McClintock,  — ,  Illinois  surveyor,  57. 
Mackinac,  fur  trade  emporium,  xiii. 
Mackinaw  boats,  used  by  fur  traders,  xiii. 
McLaughlin,    Col.    Robert    K.,    innkeeper,    138-141; 

sketch,  138. 
Macoupin  County,  settled,  xii, 

Madison,  President  James,  protege,  9;   secretary,  137. 
Madison  County,  pioneers,  10,  90;  land  in,  13. 
Mail  carriers,  in  Illinois,  105. 
Mail  routes,  in  early  Illinois,  125-126. 
Maine,  emigrants  from,  in. 
Marine  Prairie,  settled,  7,  10,  88,  142. 
Marshall,  — ,  Illinois  pioneer,  60. 
Mason  County,  settled,  22. 
Massachusetts,  emigrants  from,  xvii,  8,  16,  29,  32,  41, 

71,  90,  95;  return  to,  53,  154;  militia  muster  in,  73. 
Maysville  (Ky.),  port  of  entry,  :iT,. 
Methodists,  in  Illinois,  22,  28,  78,  80,  loi,  146;   at  St. 

Louis,  94-95. 
Middleboro  (Mass.),  emigrants  from,  17,  90. 
Military  Bounty  lands,  location,  xiii,  6,  19;   claims  in, 

21-22,  135,  145;  beauty  of,  23. 
Mills,  Benjamin,  pioneer,  7,  16,  71,  in;  sketch,  8. 
Milton,  settlers,  10. 

163 


^ntxtx 


Mississippi  River,  as  a  boundaty,  xii,  6,  i8;   affluents, 

xiii;    exploration  along,   20,   22;    bluffs  of,   22-23; 

crossed  in  ierry,  89. 
Missouri,  travelers  to,  10,  12,  15,  28;    residents,  45. 

See  also  St.  Louis. 
Monroe,  James,  appointments,  90. 
Montgomery  County,  settlers,  x\di-xviii,  10,  118;    or- 
ganized, 12,  15;    sheriflE,  8;  -mail  for,  105;    brick 

house  in,  127;  county  seat,  125-126. 
Mullanphy  family,  at  St.  Louis,  92. 
Munn,  Stephen  B.,  correspondent,  131. 
Nantucket  (IMass.) ,  emigrants  from,  40. 
National  Road,  described,  23,  36. 
Nelly,  servant  maid,  139. 
New  England,  elements  in  Illinois,  xi,  xiv,  xvii,  7-10, 

16,  134.     See  also  the  several  states. 
New  Hampshire,  emigrants  from,  10. 
New  Haven  (Conn.),  visited,  34. 
New  Jersey,  emigrants  from,  10;  crossed,  32,  35. 
New  Orleans,  steamboats  for,  45-46,  98;   goods  carried 

to,  106;   slave  market,  139,  141. 
New  York  City,  emigrants  from,  9;  interest  in  Illinois, 

15-16;  route  \da,  32;  visited,  34-35>  i53-i54- 
New  York  state,  emigrants  from,  8-10,  20-21,  85,  87. 
Newhall.  Dr.  Horatio,  pioneer  physician,  7,  16,  71,  132; 

sketch,  10. 
Niagara  Falls,  \asited,  153. 
Nickerson,  John.     See  Dickerson. 
North  Carolina,  emigrants  from,  12,  129. 
Ohio,  crossed,  S5,  36-37,  43;  roads  in,  37. 
Ohio  River,  as  a  boundar3^  xii;  flat  boats  on,  8,  12,  32  ; 

crossed,    36;     described,    44;     voyage   on,    44-46; 

mouth,  107. 
Paddock,  Julia,  married,  92. 
Paddock  family,  at  St.  Louis,  90,  92,  94,  99,  143. 
Palmyra  (N.  Y.),  emigrants  from,  87. 
Parkman.  Dr.  George,  murdered,  5-6. 
Pease,  Theodore  C,  TJie  Frontier  State,  xii. 
Pennsylvania,  roads  in,  32;   travel  through,  35-36. 
Pennsylvania  wagon,  in  Illinois,  54. 
164 


^nhtx 


Peoria,  fort  at,  xiii;   residents,  xviii. 

Peoria  Lake,  poem  on,  23. 

Perrin,  W,  H.,  History  of  Bond  and  Montgomery  Coun- 
ties, 126. 

Perrine,  Dr.  — ,  pioneer,  11,  16. 

Persia,  missionary  to,  142. 

Peters,  Rev.  Samuel,  and  Carver  claims,  21. 

Philadelphia  (Pa.),  route  via,  32;  visited,  35-36,  151; 
emigrants  from,  91,  99. 

Pike  County,  organized,  19;  settlers,  20-22;  county 
seat,  9. 

Pittsburgh,  point  of  departure,  12,  153. 

Plummer,  Rev.  — ,  Baptist  preacher,  11 2-1 14. 

Plymouth  (Mass.),  point  of  departure,  32. 

Population,  of  early  Illinois,  xii,  xiv. 

Porter,  William,  pioneer,  7,  17,  83,  91,  113-114;  ill,  113, 
118;   goes  to  Springfield,  120. 

Portland  Eastern  Argus,  editor,  42. 

Post  office,  in  Montgomery  County,  16,  125. 

Potawatami  Indians,  in  Illinois,  xiii. 

Prairie  du  Chien  (Wis.),  visitors,  21. 

Prairies,  in  Illinois,  65-66,  69. 

Presbyterians,  in  Illinois,  xvii,  9-10;  in  St.  Louis,  93; 
protracted  meeting,  117, 

Prices,  at  St.  Louis,  100. 

Providence  (R.  I.),  visited,  34,  152,  154. 

QuAiFE,  Milo  M.,  historical  introduction,  v-xxi. 

Quincy,  site,  22;  residents,  xix,  20-21,  73,  94;  rival 
town,  9;  visited,  43;  historical  museum,  xx. 

Quincy  Historical  Society,  home,  21. 

Quincy  Whig,  xix. 

Railroads,  in  Illinois,  xviii. 

Randall,  Josias,  United  States  recorder,  12-13,  15,  28. 

Real  Estate.     See  lands. 

Religious  service,  in  Illinois,  78-81;  at  St.  Louis,  93- 

95- 
Roads,   corduroy,  37,   52;    across  Pennsylvania,  32; 

national,  12,  33,  36;  in  early  Illinois,  xii,  46,  72. 
Rock  Island,  fort  at,  xiii. 
Rock  River,  mouth,  xiii. 

165 


^Tntiejc 


Ross,  Lewis,  pioneer,  22. 

Ross,  Ossian  M.,  pioneer,  21-22;  sketch,  31. 

Ross  family,  pioneers,  7,  9. 

Rountree,  Aaron  Hubbard,  baptized,  loi. 

Rountree,  Emily  A.  H.,  baptized,  loi. 

Rountree,  Judge  Hiram,  pioneer,  12,  13,  15,  17,  28, 
73-74,  96,  101-102;  builds  new  cabin,  125-126; 
assistant  postmaster,  126,  131. 

Rountree,  Hiram  Hawkins,  baptized,  loi, 

Rountree,  John,  baptized,  loi. 

St.  Charles  (Mo.),  residents,  90. 

St.  Louis,  travel  to,  xii,  24,  33,  46,  86,  89,  108;  resi- 
dents, xviii-xix,  10,  30;  money  from,  74;  visited, 
89-95,  98,  142-143,  152;  goods  from,  loi,  124; 
market,  122. 

Salines,  in  Illinois,  xii. 

Sanders,  — ,  married,  29. 

Sangamon  County,  capital  removed  to,  75;  legislators 
from.  77;  land  office  for,  90,  117-118. 

Sauk  and  Fox  Indians,  in  Illinois,  xiii. 

Seventh-day  Baptists.     See  Baptists. 

Seward,  Butler,  pioneer,^  77,  144. 

Seward,  George,  as  a  child,  75. 

Seward,  Harriet,  as  a  girl,  75-88,  81,  83;  married, 
86. 

Seward,  Col.  Israel,  pioneer,  7,  15,  74-77,  85-86,  105, 
125;  visited,  144-145. 

Seward,  Israel  Jr.,  at  Vandalia,  75. 

Seward,  John,  in  legislature,  75. 

Seward,  William,  as  a  child,  75. 

Seymour,  Sarah,  with  Mrs.  Tillson,  1 29-131,  133,  145. 

Shaw,  John,  Pike  County  pioneer,  19-20. 

Sha^\'neeto\^Ti,  road  to,  xii;  port  of  entry,  12,  45-46,  51, 
65,  67-68;  hotel  at,  46-50;  sketch,  47. 

Shoal  Creek,  in  Bond  County,  72,  125. 

Shoal  Creek  Church,  organized,  146. 

Shumway,  Hiram,  mother,  loi. 

Shurtleff,  Dr.  Benjamin,  college  named  for,  4;  in  Bos- 
ton, 5;  land  purchase,  6. 

Shurtleff,  Benjamin  Jr.,  farmer,  5. 
166 


Shurtleff,  Milton,  pioneer,  17,  73-75,  87,  97,  115;  mar- 
ried, 23-24,  27;  build  cabin,  28;  described,  76. 

Shurtleff  College,  named,  4. 

Simpson,  John,  visits  Illinois,  17-18,  95. 

Singing  school,  in  Illinois,  16-17. 

Slavery,  laws  concerning,  136-137;  manumission,  136; 
during  territorial  days,  138-141.  See  also  anti- 
slavery. 

Slocum  family,  Illinois  pioneers,  7. 

Snow,  Henry  H.,  pioneer,  7;  at  St.  Louis,  94;  sketch,  9. 

Southerners,  in  Illinois,  xiv,  24-25,  47,  102;   in  Ohio, 

42-43- 

Spencer,  O.  M.,  Indian  Captivity,  32. 

Springfield,  library  at,  xx;  residents,  9,  90, 120;  editor, 
10;  road  to,  72;  becomes  capital,  75;  mail  route 
to,  105. 

Squatters,  on  Illinois  land,  13-14. 

Starr,  — ,  Illinois  lav/yer,  in. 

Steamboats,  on  the  Ohio,  44-46. 

Stoughton  (Mass.),  emigrants  from,  71. 

Stratton,  Miss — ,  married,  122. 

Streel,  Father,  Baptist  preacher,  112. 

Sturtevant,  Stafford,  mentioned,  4. 

Sunday  Schools,  in  Illinois,  10,  146-147. 

Syria,  missionary  to,  88. 

Taylor,  Father,  Methodist  preacher,  80. 

Taylor,  John,  pioneer,  90. 

Tennessee,  emigrants  from,  14,  24. 

Tenth  Illinois  Infantry,  colonel,  xix. 

Tiffany,  Rev.  — ,  of  Chicago,  95. 

Tiffany  and  Keyte,  St.  Louis  merchants,  95. 

Tillson,  Charles,  arrives  in  lUinois,  34,  134,  136. 

Tiilson,  Charles  Holmes,  born,  120;  illness,  143;  bap- 
tized, 146;  as  a  child,  142,  152. 

Tillson,  Christiana  Holmes,  emigrates  to  Illinois,  4; 

»  description  of  journey,  31-69;  in  Illinois,  70-141; 
visits,  142-154;  sketch,  xviii. 

Tillson,  John,  the  elder,  5,  34. 

Tillson,  John,  Illinois  pioneer,  4,  11-12;  married,  xviii; 
illness,  129-132,  134;  postmaster,  125. 
167 


Tillson,  John  Jr.,  born,  128;  baptized,  146;  as  a  child, 
133,  152;  in  Quincy,  73;  sketch,  xix. 

Tillson,  Robert,  goes  West,  31,  36,  44-46,  64,  72-74; 
at  Shawneeto\Mi,  48-49,  62;  in  land  office,  74,  85, 
106;  at  brother's  home,  114,  118,  134,  149;  house- 
keeping, 95-97,  100,  no;  store  keeping,  124-125, 
136;  at  Vandalia,  129,  135;  returns,  132;  sketch, 
xix. 

Townsend,  Charles,  as  a  child,  11. 

Townsend,  Edwin,  visited,  87. 

Townsend,  Eleazar,  Montgomery  County  pioneer, 
8-10,  15,  144;  at  Vandalia,  87. 

Townsend,  Mrs.  Eleazar,  children,  128;  visits,  133, 135. 

Townsend,  Rev.  Jesse,  Illinois  pioneer,  11,  16,  28,  74, 
85,  88;  visited,  87,  117,  144. 

Townsend,  John,  as  a  child,  11. 

Townsend,  Julia.     See  Hinckley. 

Townsend,  Rosetta,  with  Mrs.  Tillson,  128-129,  135, 
146,  152;   grandfather,  154;   married,  11. 

Unionville.     See  Collinsville. 

Universalists,  at  St.' Louis,  94. 

Vandalia,  capital  of  Illinois,  8-9,  75,  77,  87,  115,  126, 
129,  142;  road  to,  72,  no;  mail  from,  126;  land 
sales  at,  135,  145;  hotel,  138;  sketch,  75. 

Vermont,  emigrants  from,  16,  21. 

Vincennes  (Ind.),  road  to,  xii. 

Virginia,  emigrants  from,  9,  42-43,.  136-138- 

Wabash  River,  as  a  boundary,  xii;  fur  trade  on,  xiii; 
settlements  near,  20. 

War  of  181 2,  in  Illinois,  xiii;  land  bounty  for,  6,  21-22. 

Warburton,  John,  at  St.  Louis,  93. 

Warren,  Hooper,  Illinois  pioneer,  7;  editor,  88;  sketch, 

10. 
■  Washing,  in  pioneer  days,  147-148. 

Washington  (D.  C),  visited,  117. 

Washington  County,  settled,  xiii. 

W^ebster,  Dr.  John  W.,  murderer,  5-6. 

Wlieeling  (Va.),  route  via,  ss^  36- 

White,  Bela,  married,  122. 

"\\Tiite  folks,"  origin  of  term,  24-25. 
168 


^nbtx 


Williams  College,  graduate,  93. 

Williamsburg  (Ohio),  route  via,  S3,  36;  visited,  39-40. 
Willis,  serving  man,  1 29-131. 
Willis,  Nathaniel,  in  Ohio,  42-43. 
Willis,  Nathaniel  Jr.,  Ohio  editor,  42-43. 
Willis,  Nathaniel  P.,  poet,  43. 
Willis,  Richard,  incident  concerning,  43. 
Winnebago  Indians,  in  Illinois,  xiii. 
Wiota  (Wis.),  founder,  9. 
Wisconsin,  pioneers,  10,  21. 
Wisconsin  State  Historical  Society,  xx. 
Women,  in  pioneer  history,  xv-xvi. 
Wood,  John,  pioneer,  7;  sketch,  20-21. 
Wright,  Joel,  Illinois  pioneer,  7,  28,  106;  sheriff,  8,  15, 
17,  27;  in  recorder's  office,  12-13;   horse,  118-119. 
Yankee,  significance  of,  xiv-xv,  25,  122-123. 
Yellow  fever,  in  New  York,  34-35. 
Yoakum,  Commodore,  squatter,  13-14,  25,  144. 
Yoakum  Station,  in  Tennessee,  14. 
Youth's  Companion^  founded,  42-43. 
Zane's  Trace,  in  Ohio,  2,3- 
Zanesviile  (Ohio),  route  via,  33,  37. 


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